


what do we do now?

by Soggy_plates



Category: The Mandalorian (TV)
Genre: Angst, Canon Related, Canon-Typical Violence, Din Djarin Needs a Hug, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Enemies to Lovers, Eventual Romance, Eventual Smut, F/M, Force Healing (Star Wars), Good Parent Din Djarin, Idiots in Love, Implied/Referenced Abuse, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Misunderstandings, No use of y/n, Protective Din Djarin, Slow Burn, Touch-Starved Din Djarin, im not using the star wars curse words sue me, no beta we die like men
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-16
Updated: 2021-03-08
Packaged: 2021-03-18 22:40:26
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 27,886
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29497431
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Soggy_plates/pseuds/Soggy_plates
Summary: Living on Tatooine sucked, but it was a lot better than being dragged to your death by a (sexy) Mandalorian for a bounty he wouldn't tell you about. Your goals: Get information about your bounty and escape the Mandaoliran. Oh, and also, cut your fucking hair. People kept pulling on it, including the small green child the bounty hunter had with him for some reason.**Spoiler: You start traveling with Mando, picks up at the start of Season 2 in chapter 10!"You kept thrashing, and in return, he wound your braid around his hand and yanked, earning a yelp from you as your head and chest were lifted from their place smashed into the ground and his helmet lowered so it was level with your face.“I can bring you in warm, or I can bring you in cold”You stilled. It was the first time you heard his voice, and it sent a thrill through your spine. Maker, what was wrong with you?"
Relationships: Din Djarin/Reader, Din Djarin/You
Comments: 30
Kudos: 168





	1. Chapter 1

You were really regretting your decision to not cut your hair this morning, as it was the sole reason you were currently face down in some dusty cantina with both of your wrists in a bruising grip behind your back.

In the spare moment you have in the time it takes for the Mandalorian to slap a pair of cuffs onto your wrists, you think back to the events earlier that day.

…

Tatooine was _hot_ , and you hated it. You had been hiding on the dusty little planet for a little over 3 months. With a bounty looming over your head, you knew you needed to find a planet where the Guild no longer operated. Tatooine wasn’t the best option, still filled to the brim with Outer Rim scum, but it would work.

At least, you thought it would.

You stared at yourself in the small mirror, in the small refresher, within the even smaller flat you managed to rent out with your limited supply of credits. Tired eyes stared back at you, this whole “fugitive of the law” was getting to you. You took to the role pretty well, however. You knew you weren’t notable, and that’s the way you liked it. Average height, average build, average everything. You knew standing out would get you into trouble, so you did your best to avoid it at all costs. The only reprieve from this normality you allowed yourself was your hair. It was _exceptionally_ long for a blazing planet like the one you currently resided on. When braided, how you normally wore it, in one long rope down your back, it easily reached the curve of your ass.

Today, like every day, you thought about cutting it off at the nape of your neck. You knew it would be better for you in the long run.

 _It would at least cool me off_ , you thought sourly. 

Despite the logic in it, you could never bring yourself to do it. Maybe it had to do with your mother and the often horrific haircuts she managed to give you consistently as a child. You shivered at the thought of your mother finding out about the bounty on your head. She would kill you herself.

You didn’t mean to end up like this. Parents dead, no family left, and most importantly, no credits had left you in a tight spot as a young woman in the Outer Rim. You knew there were only two options for someone in your position, and you certainly were not pretty enough to make money off the most common option, so you became a thief. Petty at first, only stealing from those you deemed deserving. As you grew older, however, so did your crimes. Larger values, higher-profile targets, until you stole from the wrong person. Well, not _stole_ per se. More like _freed._ Some high-profile dignitary from the Empire who still had influence. You had only planned to take the typical valuables, credits, and such. It was only by coincidence that you happened to free what you assumed was a typical house slave.

She had found you mid-job, begged you to get her out. She had looked so _broken._ So _innocent._ You cursed to yourself and hauled her out of the mansion with you.

 _Apparently,_ that “house slave” had really been “Mrs. Important Dignitary”, so essentially, you stole the guy’s wife. Great. If only you hadn’t been so soft. You knew it would get you in trouble. You _knew_ -

You were shaken out of your thoughts by voices outside your window.

One soft, speaking so quickly they were almost tripping over their words. You creaked the door to the fresher and peaked your head out just enough to see though the small window in the side of your flat and into the alley beyond. You saw the quiet figure, but couldn’t exactly make out what they were saying. A young man you realized now was a local of the area, you had seen him around. But why did he look so _scared?_ You craned your neck in an attempt to see who was frightening this man so, but you couldn’t do it without being directly in the mystery man’s eyeline. So you waited for a response as the other man trailed off. However, one never came. You simply saw a wild reflection of the light of the suns dance over the ally as you assumed the other person turned to walk away.

 _Armor,_ your stomach dropped as your mind supplied the explanation. Whether or not this person was here for you was still up for debate, but you knew they were dangerous. Only dangerous people still wore armor in the face of the blazing heat of Tatooine.

Once you were sure the armor-wearer had left, you snuck out of the fresher, grabbed your blaster, and vaulted quietly out the window to tail the other man. You fell into step behind him as he exited the ally and entered the busy street. You followed him through the crowd, staying enough paces behind him that he didn’t notice. You followed him for a good five minutes before he took an abrupt turn down another deserted alley. It was at this point he noticed you following him and tried to break into a sprint.

You were on him before he could even let the first beat land, pressing him up against a building lining the way with your arm at his sternum. He was taller than you, so you pointed your blaster up and dug it under his chin.

“Who the hell were you talking to?” you demanded, dropping your voice to the most intimidating octave you could muster.

The man in front of you sputtered, eyes wide with fear. You needed an answer.

You dug your blaster harder into the soft flesh under his jaw, presumably making it harder to breathe.

“Who?!” you practically growled at him, hoping it would do the trick

The man opened his mouth as if to answer you before the words died in his mouth. His eyes went even wider than before, if that was possible, and fixed on something above and behind your head. Your eyes remained on the man, but something behind him distracted you just as equally.

The same dancing lights you had just seen outside your flat made their way across the building behind the two of you. Your head whipped around to see a wall of armor standing at the mouth of the ally.

That bastard sent a _Mandalorian?_ You were dead. That’s it, game over. _Dead._

Even though your brain knew you were dead, your instincts still kicked in enough to release the man and shove him toward the entrance of the ally in one swift motion before taking off in the opposite direction. You fought the urge to turn back as you ran harder than you ever had in your life.

_He knew I saw him question that man, he knew I would follow him to get answers._

At least you would get taken down by a clever bounty hunter.

More pressingly, you were coming to the end of the ally, closed off by a large gate. _No way over it_ , you thought, _too high_. _Sides?_ Pressed flush against the building, no getting through there. _Bottom?_ Now there’s an option. The bottom was just high enough off the ground for you to shimmy through. Even though you only caught a glimpse of the Mandalorian, you knew he was too bulky to ever follow.

You might actually get away with this.

You dared yourself a glance back and the Mandalorian was nearly on you.

_How is he so fast with all that shit on him?_

You were only a few paces from the fence, it was now or never. You dove. Your upper body sparked in pain as you impacted the rough dirt. You slid smoothly until your ass hit the fence. _Dammit._ You desperately shimmied the rest of the way under the fence. You were almost there. _You were going to make it._

Then you felt a grip on your boot, the only part of you not under the fence. You yelped loudly as you were ruthlessly pulled back, the majority of your calf returning to the other side. Your fingers clawed at the ground and your other leg kicked desperately at the gloved hand that held you.

_Maker, he’s too strong_

With another tug, you were almost up to your knees on the other side of the fence. While you were grunting and panting hard, the helmet behind you was absolutely silent, unnervingly so.

You knew you had to come up with something now. He still only managed to have you around your left ankle, so you brought your other foot up and _pushed_ at the top of your left boot, hard. It slid free of your foot, and with one more push, your socked foot came out and pushed off the ground for leverage. He grabbed only a moment late as the last bits of you slipped under the fence. You kicked desperately at the ground and ran, only pausing when you were sure there was an absence of footsteps behind you.

You turned briefly and saw the Mandalorian standing there. A thrill ran through you.

_What?_

This man was trying to _kill_ you, and yet the sight of him just standing there, glowering, still gripping your boot in his hand sent fire to the pit of your stomach. He was tall, taller than you first realized. Even in the alley far apart he seemed to crowd over you with his presence alone. You met where you assumed his eyes would be behind the t-shaped visor.

You could only imagine what he saw. Your eyes wide, mouth open, covered in dirt and wearing only one shoe.

This image of yourself roused you from your frankly _insane_ thoughts, and you turned and ran.

…

After getting over what little pride you had garnered from managing to escape a Mandalorian, you realized how absolutely _fucked_ you were.

Where were you supposed to go?

You couldn’t go back to your flat, that was out of the question. You couldn’t shack up with anyone you knew and liked in town, that would automatically put them in danger. You couldn’t shack up with anyone you knew and disliked because they would never let you in the front door, probably try to deliver you to the Mandalorian themselves.

So you end in the only place in which you knew you could get passage of the planet, the cantina. Thankfully it was busy tonight, so you could blend in well enough. You waited well late in the night, hiding close enough to see the entry and exit. No armor in sight. After your anxiety had built to a crescendo, you pushed yourself out of your hiding place and, on shaky legs, made your way to the front door. You entered with your hood pushed up over your head and your braid tucked into your cloak, trying to move as inconspicuously as possible. That was, until you heard your name shouted as loudly as possible.

You winced as your name echoed throughout the room and heads turned, yours slowly moving to face the voice that gave you away.

Ali. You love her to death, but she wasn’t the brightest one in the galaxy. She beamed at you from behind the bar, surrounded by patrons and their wandering eyes as usual. Ali was beautiful and she loved the attention, something you very much did not need right now.

You quickly made your way over to her at the bar, the serious look on your face made her cheerful expression drop at once.

“What’s wrong? Are you okay?” she questioned, still in a too-loud voice.

“I’m fine, just hiding” you gritted out from behind clenched teeth.

Ali seemed to get with the program then, lowering her voice and body to match your crunched position over the counter.

“Someone’s collecting on your bounty?” she whispered intently, with a trace of concern for you in her voice that softened your previous anger at her.

You had told her about your bounty about a month after being in town, you trusted her, she was good. That is why you very much did not want her caught up in this mess.

“Yes”, you replied, “A Mandalorian”

You saw the same realization hit her as had hit you.

“You’re dead” she said with wide eyes.

_Great._

“I know, I’m trying to get off-planet. Are there any ships passing through tonight?”

“Not that I’ve heard, I’m sorry”

She really was.

You gave her a tight smile and turned to leave when you heard your name for a second time that day.

This time, it came from a gruff, older voice, and it came from a man pointing right at you from across the cantina.

The man was standing next to a solid wall of armor, with a familiar visor pointed straight at you.

_Shit._

He made for you before you could make for the door, crossing the floor in seconds and grabbing your cloak. The same trick worked twice apparently, as you reached up and released the clasp around your throat and pushed yourself to a sprint toward the door.

You were going to make it, you were so close, you-

The next thing you knew, a blinding pain erupted from the back of your head and the world tilted around you until your shoulders smashed into the rough floor.

_He grabbed your braid._

That was low.

One hand still wrapped tight around your hair, his other hand was used to flip you onto your stomach and wrench your wrists behind your back. Cuffs were slapped on and hummed to life as his knees caged your back. You bucked, trying to get him off you, or at least make him move, but he was solid.

The lost chance of cutting your hair this morning flashed in your mind, you grimaced with regret.

You kept thrashing, and in return, he wound your braid around his hand and yanked, earning a yelp from you as your head and chest were lifted from their place smashed into the ground and his helmet lowered so it was level with your face.

“I can bring you in warm, or I can bring you in cold”

You stilled. It was the first time you heard his voice, and it sent a thrill through your spine. Maker, what was _wrong_ with you.

The slight arousal was quickly tamped down and replaced with overwhelming fear as he wrenched you from your position on the ground and to your feet.

The entire cantina had gone quiet with your brawl, all eyes on you both. As he pulled you into a standing position, he cast a glance, or at least you thought he did, at the other patrons, who all quickly averted their eyes and continued their conversations in hushed whispers.

He began to pull you to the door and you made final, desperate eye contact with Ali who looked devastated. You gave her a small smile as a goodbye and the door to the cantina slammed shut behind the two of you.

...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey all! Welcome to the fic! Comments are always appreciated!
> 
> https://soggy-platee.tumblr.com/


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Mandalorian drags you to a familiar hangar and you have a million questions. 
> 
> "Your head popped up from its current position facing the ground and you make eye contact with the quite possibly the strangest creature you had ever seen, and, quite possibly…the cutest?"

…

It was not only just his stoic exterior, you came to understand, this guy _really_ did not talk _._

Like, not a single word. Beyond the threat he ground out at you in the cantina, he had yet to say anything else to you as he dragged you through the darkened streets.

It didn’t help that you were too scared to even let out a sound, keep quiet against the pain in your wrists as the cuffs ground into them. You knew they were bruised, or even bleeding. You wondered if they would scar.

_Would that even matter?_

Your mind began to race. Would he kill you when you got to his ship, or would that old wife beater do it himself when the Mandalorian delivered you to him? Or would he draw it out?

_Would he make it hurt?_

You shivered at both the thought and the cold, he had left your cloak on the floor of the cantina and it was a cold night in Mos Eisley. You wondered what he did with your other boot.

Although it was dark, you knew exactly where he was taking you. Out past the lights of the town toward the docking bays, toward his ship.

 _Toward possible death_ , your brain provided unhelpfully.

You passed by the docks one by one, 1-5, 2-5, and to your chagrin, he stopped you in front of the entrance of hangar 3-5. If there was one person that would absolutely _not_ help your situation, it was the owner of this dock. You bit back a groan as he did indeed drag you through the entrance. After winding you around familiar corners, his ship came into view.

It had…seen better days, to say the least.

You knew it was a pre-imperial gunship, but your knowledge of the craft stopped there. The copious amounts of carbon scoring along the hull somehow make you more scared of the bounty hunter currently hauling you toward the open mouth of the ship.

From inside, a voice called, “Finally! This little guy wasn’t gonna let me get any more work done without seeing his dad!”

What? _Little guy?_ And more importantly, _Dad?!_

She couldn’t be talking about the Mandalorian behind you. You couldn’t imagine this bounty hunter managing to keep a plant alive, let alone a _child._ How did that even work? Didn’t Mandalorians never remove their helmets? There isn’t exactly a surplus of their kind around. Did he have a partner? Did that bother you? _Why in the hell would that bother you-_

Your mind went blank, however, when the owner of the hangar stuck her head out of the ship, still far enough inside to obscure whatever or whoever she was referring to as “little guy”. She made eye contact with you and groaned, you gave a sheepish grin in return.

“So I’m not the only one you’ve screwed over, huh?”

Peli Motto was one of the people in town who would have turned you over personally to the hunter if you crossed her path. You had arrived on Tatooine three months ago with a load of stolen ship parts from your last job and planned to get good credits for them, sell them to the various hangars here and live out comfortably before you had to move on. Only after landing on the planet did you realized that these parts were essentially junk. You stole the wrong stuff, but hey, you never claimed to be a mechanic.

That is, until you sold off the shit parts to Peli for way too many credits. At that time, you did claim to be a mechanic.

She chased you down with a wrench before you even had time to make it back into town. You ended up with no parts, no credits, and a seriously nasty lump on your head. You had sincerely apologized, you really didn’t like taking advantage of those who didn’t deserve it. You were just in a tight spot. You don’t think it made a difference to her. 

“Th-those parts were legit, you’re the one who robbed me”, you responded weakly.

“A bad thief _and_ a bad liar, I don’t know how the hell you made it this long”, she snapped back

She directed the next sentence to the silent figure behind you,

“Be careful with that one, she’s slippery”

“I know”

Peli didn’t seem surprised when he responded, you began to wonder if he just didn’t talk to _you._

You didn’t have time to ponder this, as he began pushing you again abruptly. You were so unprepared for the movement that you tripped over your own shoeless foot. You were headed straight for the ground, unable to use the hands currently cuffed behind your back. You tensed in anticipation for impact, you face scrunching and turning to the side-

A large arm wrapped its way around your torso at the last moment and hauled you toward a strong chest, causing your body to fold around it while also knocking the breath out of you. Before you even had time to process that he was currently holding your _ass_ flush with his, um, _lower half_ , you heard a loud squeal of delight.

Your head popped up from its current position facing the ground and you make eye contact with the quite possibly the strangest creature you had ever seen, and, quite possibly…the _cutest_?

Your first thought was that there is no way that the man practically holding you up currently ( _Maker, he’s holding you!_ ), could be the father of this thing. The image of the Mandalorian with the same large, green ears under his helmet made you let out an involuntary huff of laughter.

This movement made the Mandalorian release you, rather ungently, you might add. You barely managed to make it on your feet when he practically threw you at the ground. You tried to not be offended as you returned your eyes to the small green creature in Peli’s arms, who had made her way down the ramp to stand in front of the pair of you.

Its large brown eyes were fixed on the silver bucket behind your head, with arms reached out and a wide smile on its tiny face. Its ears were huge, stretching out from its head, almost doubling its width. It wore a small brown tunic with tiny, three-toed feet sticking out the bottom.

Your assessment of the little one was cut short when the Mandalorian side stepped Peli and the child to drag you up the ramp to the ship.

Why the hell were you admiring the child? Why were you thinking about anything else besides _your possible death_! You needed to form a plan to get out of this. Now. You began running through options in your head, commandeering the ship in flight, getting away once you landed, even causing damage mid-flight to buy you more time. _Maybe if you could_ -

All your half-formed hopes were dashed when you caught sight of your worst nightmare. _A carbonite freezer._

_Maker, no. No. Please. Anything but that._

_You couldn’t- You wouldn’t. You would rather die than go under again. Last time-_

A sharp push toward the freezer forced your thoughts from your throat. “No.”, you whispered.

He responded by continuing to pull you forward, toward the freezer.

_Toward that dark, that never-ending cold and dark._

You braced your single boot and socked foot on the ground, saying louder this time, “No.”

This time he turned back to face you. He still didn’t speak, and you still kept your feet planted in protest. You heard a crackle of static from the helmet, he huffed, annoyed at your insolence.

He turned again toward the freezer, tightening his grip on your arm to a near bruising pressure, easily breaking your stance with another tug. You trip toward the freezer but recover quickly, throwing your shoulders in an attempt to break his iron grip. No such luck.

You were starting to panic. You threw your shoulders again and again, still not hampering your progress toward the vile thing.

The next noise of annoyance that came from the helmet was more akin to a growl as he used his other hand to hover over the blaster at his hip, all while looking rights at your face. It was a clear warning. You paused briefly, weighing your options. You knew already, though, that you would rather die than go under. _Easily._

You continued to thrash, trying to remove his hand from your arm.

He pulled his blaster then and pushed it into the soft side of your torso.

You looked up into his helmet, where you hoped his eyes were. While your own eyes were watering with panic, you managed to give what you thought was a convincing snarl.

“Do it. I would rather die than go in.” you growled.

“That can be arranged” he said, emotionless.

Your standoff continued, your brows knitting tighter together and his blaster digging further into your side, so far it touched your ribs. You had no doubt he was serious about his threat, and you prepared for the worst.

The stalemate was broken by the sound of Peli’s voice calling for the bastard in front of you. His grip on your arm tightened painfully, briefly, before letting it go, using both hands to push you back to the wall of the ship, where your cuffs magnetized, effectively holding you there.

He moved in front of you, holding his blaster level with your brow and gritted out, “Stay.”

You sneered at him as he turned to leave. The moment he was away from you, however, your shoulders sank and you let out several shaky breaths.

_Maker, you were scared._

You hated to admit it, even to yourself, but you were on the verge of tears that entire time. You wondered if he could tell. You wondered if he would even care.

You lifted your head toward the sound of Peli’s voice outside, once again too soft to hear. Her eyes flashed briefly over to you as she gestured with the hand not holding the child. They seemed to be arguing, the Mandalorian moving his hand in a striking motion. She held up the child in front of her, and his shoulders fell slightly, signally defeat.

You figured you should at least attempt to look a little bit intimidating before the Mandalorian returned, sniffling your runny nose and attempting to reign in your misty eyes.

You knew he still saw the signs, however, when he made his way back into the ship to stand in front of you.

He assessed you silently, and your feigned confidence quickly waned under the weight of his stare until you were as curled in on yourself as far as you possibly could be while your hands were cuffed behind your back.

He spoke, deathly quiet, “You try anything, I kill you. Clear?”

You nodded, eyes wide with fear.

_Did this mean you wouldn’t be going in the freezer?_

Apparently so, as the Mandalorian began making preparations to leave the hangar.

…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry, this chapter is kind of filler, but we do get some sweet baby Grogu! Comments always appreciated!
> 
> https://soggy-platee.tumblr.com/


	3. Chapter 3: Interlude

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A little of Din's pov from the previous chapter.

…

Din was annoyed. This was supposed to be a simple bounty. The girl didn’t have any real experience, just a small-time thief. So why was this job taking him so long? He was pissed when she slipped away from him in the alley, a mistake that with a real bounty would have likely gotten him killed, and he was pissed now, as she stared up defiantly at him in front of the carbon freezer.

Most bounties put a fight when going into the freezer, yes, but most also gave up when he pulled his blaster. She, however, seemed only to fight harder, daring him to kill her. He might have, if the client hadn’t specified she be brought in alive and, if possible, unharmed.

His threat in the cantina had really only been for show, he couldn’t actually kill her if he wanted the reward.

He was on the verge, however, when Peli’s voice cut through his staring contest with the girl. He gave her a quick jab in the side with the blaster, prompting a gasp of pain before magnetizing her to the wall.

He walked over to Peli who was still holding the child.

“What?” he said, his annoyance making the words harsh.

“Would you just leave that poor girl out of the carbon? She not dangerous for Maker’s sake.” Peli huffed while hoisting the child further onto her hip.

“How would you know?”

“She ripped me off when she first got into town, or tried to. I chased her down and gave her a beating. She apologized.”

“So?”

“She’s not a bad person is what I’m sayin, just tryin to get by like the rest of us. She’s terrified, I know you can see it!”

He could, however confident her exterior. He had seen the mist in her eyes and her shaking hands.

“She’s a bounty-” he said, lifting his hand to brush off her point

“So was he!” Peli interrupted, lifting the child in front of his face. “Not all of your bounties are monsters, I figured that would be through your thick metal bucket by now.”

He hated that she was right. His hackles dropped, turning away from the accusing eyes of Peli and the curious eyes of the child.

Fine. But if she does _anything_ , she's going under, no matter how much she begs.

He was getting too soft.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> https://soggy-platee.tumblr.com/


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Longest chapter yet, hope you enjoy it!!!
> 
> Your eyes jerked to his visor.
> 
> He knew?
> 
> Was this something that was common in the galaxy? And this was just the biggest oversight of your entire existence?
> 
> No. No way.
> 
> “…Yes? I think so. My shoulder... it doesn’t hurt anymore, at all.”
> 
> He just huffed and walked away, holstering his blaster and reaching his other hand up to check up on the child, tilting his little chin up to his.
> 
> Um, no. He didn’t just get to not explain that.
> 
> “How can he do that? What is that? Wh-what is he?”
> 
> “He’s a child”
> 
> No shit.

…

You had learned several things since taking off. Mainly, that the child was incredibly interested in you.

From the moment the Mandalorian, Mando, as you heard Peli call him, had brought him aboard, he had been desperately trying to get to you.

Still magnetized to the side of the ship, you had managed to slide your cuffs down far enough so you could sit on the floor, not comfortably, you noted, but still able to. The child had managed to squirm his way over to you for the second time in the several hours you had been flying, pulling on your pant leg in a desperate bid for attention. You offered him a small smile, hoping to convey that your hands were tied. Literally. He babbled at you and you feigned interest, quizzically tilting your head and nodding as he vocalized. He squealed in delight at your actions, which alerted his less adorable, just as mysterious father to his location.

A loud thud sounded as the Mandalorian dismounted the ladder from the cockpit, head jerking toward the location of the child at your feet. He huffed loudly and stalked over to you, reaching down and picking up the child with a carefulness that almost made you think he had a soul under all that metal. _Almost._

He was still bringing you to your death, no matter how attractive he was or how cute his kid could be.

You had been trying to rectify your situation in your head as you flew. Maybe that old bastard wouldn’t kill you. Maybe he had gotten his wife back and he just wanted to... punish you? You stopped yourself from hoping for that outcome, both because you knew deep down it was impossible, and because you hoped that your efforts to free that woman were not in vain.

You hadn’t seen her since you parted ways a few klicks from the mansion, you had simply wished her luck. She wouldn’t have been any safer with you.

 _Clearly_.

Mando was turning around to leave you alone in the hull once again when you dared to ask him,

“W-What planet are you taking me to?”

No response, he just kept moving back toward the ladder.

“H-Hey!”, you said louder, “Where are you taking me?”

He stopped then, and faced you, the child still held in one arm.

“Nevarro”

_Nevarro?_

“What?” you asked, dumbfounded.

_Why the hell would he be on Nevarro?_

“The man that placed my bounty, he’s there?”

No response again, he had reached the ladder now.

“Wait!” you yelled, a little too forcefully while tugging on your bindings to get his attention. You immediately regretted your tone when he turned quickly back toward you and glowered. Well, you figured he must have been under the helmet.

“I can still put you in carbonite, no more questions.”

It was the most words he had strung together since his initial threat in the cantina. You went quiet.

He climbed the ladder and you were once again alone in the hull of the ship. The time to yourself allowed you to realize just how tired you were. Your very bones ached with exhaustion. You hadn’t slept since you had initially fled from your flat the day before. That had been over a day ago, and the near-constant panic had not helped with your tiredness. You leaned your head back against the cool metal of the ship’s interior, your eyes slipping closed. You were worried. You were scared. But your current exhaustion overrode these feelings and you feel into a fitful sleep.

…

In your dreams, you felt the Mandalorian. His iron grip on your arm, pushing you further and further toward the freezer, nothing but inky blackness beyond the metal frame. You tried to plead, to fight. You screamed, you cried, you _begged._ The interior of the ship melted away and was replaced by the dull walls of your childhood home. _No._ Your blood ran cold. You looked down at the hand holding your arm. There was no glove. No beskar. Just rough and bloody knuckles. You wrenched yourself around to look into the face of the person holding you. _Into eyes that looked too much like yours-_

You awoke to your head crashing violently into the wall behind you. Lights danced behind your eyes on impact, and before you had time to process your dream or the pain now blossoming at the base of your skull, the entire ship _flipped_. The cuffs held tight, so your shoulders were left to take the brunt of your shifting body. You screamed in pain as you felt one of them _for sure_ pop out of place as your entire weight was held with them. Your ass was slammed back into the ground as the ship righted itself, your right shoulder still burning with pain. You heard the sound of guns firing, and were jolted once more when one bolt impacted the ship. The lightning flickered, and then the hull was plunged into darkness.

Several sounds from above reminded you of the Mandalorian’s presence. A gruff curse, an opening hatch, and the sounds of Mando descending the ladder distracted you from the pulsing pain in your arm. You looked blindly out at the pitch blackness, head darting to follow the heavy footsteps that filled the hull. From what you could gather, he was nearly directly across for you. You heard a panel open, a grunt as sparks flittered from some wires, and suddenly the lights returned. You winced against the harsh light as your vision focused on the armored form in front of you. He turned to you now, closing the hatch and tucking the wires back inside.

You were panting, with both the stress of being flipped and the pain in your shoulder nearly overwhelming you. He noticed. He walked over to you and stood above you, studying you silently.

“What?” you gritted out.

“Are you hurt?”, he asked after a beat.

You were annoyed. Who is this bounty hunter to kidnap you, threaten your life, and _then_ ask if you were hurt?

_Of course you were._

Your anger boiled over, “Why would you care?” you spat.

He simply continued to look down at you.

You held out for several seconds, before sighing and saying, “My shoulder, I think it’s dislocated”.

He crouched then, helmet almost level with your face. He tilted his head and inspected your shoulder. He must have agreed, as he reached one hand behind your back to grip your cuffs. He used his other hand to grip the front of your tunic tightly.

“Don’t try anything”

_Did he think you were that stupid?_

He released the cuffs and your arms groaned in protest as your moved your hands to rest in your lap. He reached forward and gently grabbed your right shoulder. You hissed in pain at the contact but he didn’t stop his probing, moving his gloved fingers along the joint.

“It is.”

 _Yeah, I know_ , you thought. But you stayed silent, looking into his visor. You felt heat rise to your face as his gaze held yours with his body so close.

“I’m going to set it, get ready”

You nodded slightly, and as you readied yourself to draw in a breath, he snapped the joint back into place.

The lack of warning made you scream, a short sound that echoed through the hull but did not seem to affect Mando in the slightest.

After your ragged breathing had evened out, he removed his hands from your shoulder and stood up, glancing around the ship. You wanted to ask what happened, who had been shooting at you, but your nerves made the words catch in your throat.

He made his way back to the cockpit, and after a moment, you felt the ship begin to descend. You were nowhere close to Nevarro, so the ship must need repairing. You felt both a sense of relief and dread at this development. On one hand, it gave you more time to think of a plan. You still needed to get yourself out of this mess.

On the other hand, it left you more time at the mercy of his overbearing, _terrifying_ presence.

You craned your neck in an attempt to look out the small porthole. You managed to get a glimpse of the planet, covered almost entirely in snow and ice. Great, this is what you get for complaining so much about the heat of Tatooine.

As the ship continued its descent, you wondered about how this was going to _work_ , exactly. The damage you figured must be pretty extensive, so what would become of you as it was repaired? What would he do with the child? You glanced across to the carbon freezer. You realized that it was the simplest solution for the hunter and shuttered.

He had relented before, he had to do it again, right? You figured there was no way that old man cared if you were alive or dead, however.

_“I can bring you in warm, or I can bring you in cold”_

He really might just kill you this time.

Your shoulder still throbbed dully as you heard Mando descend from the cockpit once more. He had his back to you, but you assumed he held the child in his free arm. He moved over to a hatch on the far side of the ship and pressed a button on his right vambrace to reveal a…cubby?

 _His bed_ , you realized.

He deposited the child in a small hammock hanging inside.

_Okay, that was cute._

You saw his large eyes meet with the Mandalorian’s helmet before the hatch snapped shut with him inside. He turned to face you. It was only now that you realized that he had _never put the cuffs back on._

 _Maker, I’m an idiot,_ you thought. You missed your chance! You had this entire time to… to…

Escape?

What the hell were you going to even do?

You were trapped on a junker you had no idea how to operate with a living weapon and a green bean. Escape wasn't really an option you could entertain.

He was standing in front of you now, a slightly defensive stance with a hand hovering over his blaster as he looked at your cuffless hands. You paused and realized what he wanted. You held your hands out limply, grunting against the pain in your shoulder.

“Can you at least cuff me in front? I think I’ll pass out if you try to touch my arm right now."

He moved his hands from his blaster to the cuffs deftly and slapped them on your wrists and pushed them toward the wall, once again trapping you.

You wondered why you had given up so easily.

He stood again and said one word before striding to the mouth of the ship, opening the bay doors,

“Stay.”

You were really getting tired of him saying that to you.

As he was walking down the ramp, you suddenly realized,

“What about the kid? You’re just gonna leave him shut up in there?”

No response. _Big surprise._

You rolled your eyes at the back of his head as the bay doors closed and you were trapped in silence once again.

...

You fall in and out of consciousness to the sound of work on the outside of the ship. In your moments of waking, you feel hunger gnaw at you. You think back to the last time you ate, the night before you had originally run from the Mandalorian. You wonder if he’ll feed you, or deliver you as skin and bones to his client.

You are shaken from your thoughts when you hear cooing from the sleeping hatch. You had almost forgotten about the child.

 _Some dad he is_ , you thought, _leaving a baby all alone in a ship with a criminal._

Well, criminal in the least dangerous sense of the word.

It had to have been at least half a day since the hunter had left you two alone on the ship, no wonder he was getting fussy. You wished you could do something about it.

Mostly, you wished you could get out of the cuffs. They were really killing your wrists, as you had them on for Maker knows how long now.

The cooing got louder, escalating into what you could almost call crying. Small hiccupped breaths followed by loud wines emanated through the ship. You had never been the maternal type (now that you think of it, you don’t even think you’ve ever held a baby), but his cries were tugging on your heartstrings.

Suddenly, the cries stopped, followed by an eerie silence, before the hatch came open. The child, still in his hammock, squealed happily when his eyes found you.

You smiled back at him, confused.

_How did he do that?_

You peered inside the cubby, trying to see if there were buttons within his reach that you couldn’t see. Before you could do so, the child half climbing/half falling out of his hammock caught your attention. He made his way down to the cot, and then down to the floor with what, you had to admit, were some impressive climbing skills for such a little body.

He practically tripped over his own little feet in his attempt to get to you as fast as possible. You couldn’t help but grin widely, wondering how this little ball of joy ended up with such a joy _less_ father.

He reached your legs, you were currently sitting cross-legged on the ground which he interpreted as an invitation to crawl into your lap. You attempted to use your elbows, pulled across your front due to your cuffs held tight to the wall, to pat the little one on the head. It hadn’t worked as well as you had hoped, but he seemed delighted, reaching up and pulling them down in order to climb closer to your face. He scrambled up your arms, grabbing too tight on your still burning shoulder. You gasped in pain. He stopped then, removing his little hand from your arm, he looked up at you with big, wide eyes.

You smiled back to him, “It’s okay little one, it’s not your fault”, hoping to convey that you weren’t mad.

He still stared silently back at you.

“It just hurts a little, that’s all. Your dad isn’t the best piolet, is he?”

You wondered if he had any idea what you were saying.

Slowly, he returned his attention to your hurt shoulder. He moved his hand toward it and you were about to object before he touched it ever so gently, laying his three fingers at the base of the joint.

You stopped, confused for a moment before a warmth suddenly ran through your arm. You gasped and almost pulled away before you felt the dull ache leave your shoulder like flowing water. You relaxed into the touch, eyes slipping closed, allowing the last of the discomfort to slip away.

Before you had time to react, the little one fell backward, eyes closed, from his place perched on your elbows to your crossed knees below.

Your brief panic was quelled by his eyes blinking back open, staring up at you with a soft coo.

You looked down at the child in your lap with eyes wide.

_What?_

_No, really, What?!_

You experimentally rolled your shoulder, feeling absolutely no pain. In fact, it felt better than you could ever remember it feeling.

Maybe you were imagining things. It was impossible, right? _Right? There was no wa-_

The next thing you knew, the hull was open and the Mandalorian was standing there, blaster pointed directly at you. You looked back at him dumbfounded. What had you done? You raised your hands in the cuffs as a sign of peace, still confused about his sudden threat.

Once your mind caught up, you looked into your lap. Um, _hello?_

His son was in the lap of the person who was currently his prisoner for crime, you know _, a criminal!?_

You immediately began speaking frantically,

“N-No, it’s not what it looks like! He just… I didn’t hurt-, I _wouldn’t-“_

He stalked over to you and grabbed the child quickly, blaster level with your brow now.

“Explain.”

This guy is really a fan of single-word orders.

You stumble over your words,

“He-He was crying. In the hatch. And then he stopped, I don’t know how…he got out and came over to me. He was just having f-fun, then he saw I was hurt and he…with his hand…”

You trailed off and lowered your head, unable to explain what had happened in words.

“He healed you?”

Your eyes jerked to his visor.

_He knew?_

Was this something that was common in the galaxy? And this was just the biggest oversight of your entire existence?

No. No way.

“…Yes? I think so. My shoulder... it doesn’t hurt anymore, at all.”

He just huffed and walked away, holstering his blaster and reaching his other hand up to check up on the child, tilting his little chin up to his.

Um, no. He didn’t just get to _not explain that._

“How can he do that? _What_ is that? Wh-what is _he_?”

“He’s a child”

_No shit._

You were about to speak again, demanding he answer your questions when he beat you to it.

“It’s just something he does, it won’t affect you any further.”

Okay, he somehow managed to answer none of your actual questions. You sat and watched as he deposited the kid back in the hammock. He turned back to you.

“Were going to be here overnight, get some sleep.”

You looked at him, wondering how the hell he just brushed over that whole event so quickly. He turned his back, preparing to crawl into the hatch with the child, you realized.

“Wait!”

Silence, then “What?”

“I-uh”

“Spit it out.”

“I-uh…need to use the fresher”

Silence. A sigh.

Then he was walking over to you, demagnetizing your cuffs and hauling you to your feet. He stopped you at the door of the small fresher, pushing you toward the opening slightly. You turned to look up into his visor.

_Maker, had he always a head taller than you?_

“Can you take the cuffs off?”

“Your hands are in front”

It was worth a shot. You walked into the fresher and he slid the door closed behind you.

Though you really did have to relieve yourself, you also wanted to look at yourself in the mirror. Call it a strange curiosity, but you wanted to see what you looked like after the insanity of the last two days. Your eyes had deeper circles than you had ever seen. Your hair was still tucked tightly into your long braid but pieces had fallen out to frame your face. Oh, you were also _covered_ in dirt from head to toe. Your little fence scuffle with Mando had left you dirty, and you clearly had no time to clean up. You hadn’t noticed, but your tunic had also ripped at the sleeve, revealing a little bit of skin. The thin pale line of a scar shone through the torn material. You shivered. The last person you needed to think about right now was _him._ Hey, things could be worse. You could be given over to him. If he was still alive. The idea of him dead warmed you a little, at least. You finished up in the fresher and desperately tried to wipe some of the dirt off yourself before you heard a heavy fist on the door.

_Yeah, Yeah._

You pushed open the door the best you could with your cuffed hands and stepped out.

He looked you up and down. _What?_ You thought irritably. His gaze lingered on your shoulder, at least that's where you thought he was looking. Seconds ticked by and you grew more confused. Then, he started moving you again.

Instead of leading you back to the wall, however, he led you to the right, beyond his sleeping quarters to a larger hatch. You looked up at him, a question on your lips when he opened the hatch and ushered you inside. It was a small storage room with a single mat on the floor, crates surrounding the area. You turned back to him, tilting your head in confusion.

“The door locks from the outside, don’t try anything.”

The door shut behind you, plunging you into near-total darkness. Wasn’t he just about to let you sleep on the cold floor of the ship with your hands still cuffed to the wall?

_Why did he change his mind?_

…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you guys like the story so far!
> 
> https://soggy-platee.tumblr.com/


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You get attacked by hunters and, more importantly, find out more about your bounty. Angst and violence abound in this chapter, beware!
> 
> "He pushed his blaster into your forehead hard and the grip on your throat tightened, making stars dance in your vision.
> 
> Between his pants, he ground out, “I should kill you for that”
> 
> You gaped around his hand, hoping the sincerity would come out in your voice,
> 
> “Pl-Please”

...

The small room was _freezing._ The mat on the ground did little to quell your shivering. It was the kind of shivering that made you _hurt_. Your muscles were tired, but you just couldn’t _stop_.

You had all but given up on sleeping. The soft beams of light coming from the porthole provided just enough light for you to inspect you surroundings. Crates were stacked into several of the corners, piling up to the ceiling. You wondered what the hell could be in so many boxes.

_Well, you guessed you could go find out._

You teetered to your feet, off-balance from your cuffed hands and shivering limbs. You made your way to the closest box, resting your hands on the lid. You fumbled blindly for the latch, skimming across the cold metal tentatively.

_There._

You curled your fingers over the latch, pulling up slightly. It didn’t budge. You pulled harder. Still nothing.

Of course he wouldn’t leave his bounty alone in a room with boxes full of Maker knows what kinds of weapons. You sighed, scolding yourself for being ignorant. You blamed it on the cold.

You were attempting to make your way back to the mat when your foot brushed something sharp. You hissed and pulled back from the pain. Regaining your footing, you bent down to inspect the object. Wedged in between two boxes was something glinting. You reached down, careful to grip the non-sharp side of the object, and wrenched it from its place. It was just as cold as the rest of the ship as you held it up to the small amount of light in the room. It was a scrap of metal, warped from some kind of blast.

It was sharp.

 _It was a weapon_ , a voice in your mind whispered.

The idea hit you in the gut.

Could you harm the Mandalorian? Beyond the clear physical disadvantage you were at, if you had the opportunity…

_Would you try to kill him?_

A more primitive part of your brain supplied a simple answer, _of course._

He was trying to kill you. Maybe not directly, but his actions would more than likely end with your death.

So why would you hesitate?

The more rational part of your brain came up with the answer.

He’s a father. _He has a child._

_What kind of person could kill a child’s father in front of him?_

Maybe you could just threaten him?

An image of you holding up this small piece of metal to the Mandalorian pops into your mind. You cringed at the idea.

You think you would rather take a blaster to the head than deal with the embarrassment of that situation. Coincidently, that’s exactly what you figured the Mandalorian would do if you actually tried it.

So threats were out of the question.

That left you with the previous troubling dichotomy.

You finally moved back to the mat, metal scrap still in hand, when you began to shiver even harder than before. You curled up as best you could, wedging the piece of metal under the edge of the mat. Your mind went over the options this new development presented for hours before you eventually, blessedly, fell asleep.

…

Panic.

That’s the first thing you felt before your eyes even had a chance to open.

You felt the hard weight of a hard body pressing you down and a gloved hand over your mouth. You instinctually started fighting against the weight, bucking your hips and digging your nails into the arm holding your chest down, as your eyes snapped open to-

_Blackness_

You couldn’t see a thing, why couldn’t you see?

Your mind raced. You inhaled deeply, the gloved hand on your mouth smelled like blaster residue and _blood_. It had to be Mando, right? There was no other explanation.

Then you realized. Your nails were currently digging into the soft feeling of skin, not beskar. A hand moving quicklyly at the back of your head made you realize why you couldn’t see. A thin strip of cloth was being tied tightly around your eyes.

So if it wasn’t Mando, _who was this?_

The forearm you were gripping was pulled away from your chest, and the legs caging your hips began to shift. You took the chance to send a punch directly into the stomach of the person in front of you.

A rough grunt, followed by the form curling in. One leg was still wrapped around your body, but you heard both palms hit the metal floor next to you. You took the chance to shimmy out your legs and lift your blindfold with your still cuffed hands.

You took in the scene as fast as you could.

Light, pouring in from the porthole lit the room. Daytime. The door to your compartment was ajar and through it, you heard the ruff sounds of a fight. The form, a man, to your side was recovering from his hunched position. He was human, red-haired, and _huge_.

This was especially a problem, because he now turned his attention back to you, face twisted into a snarl.

You dove away from him at the same moment he lunged for you. You were nowhere near fast enough. He grabbed you around your middle and you both hit the floor, your breath whooshing out of you. He began to stand, arms still gripping you tight, effectively dragging you back. It was over, there was no way you were getting away from him.

Then you felt a bump under you as you were pulled back. _The metal._

As he pulled you further, you managed to slip your hand under the mat and conceal the metal shard up the sleeve of your tunic, trapped against your arm by the fabric and the cuffs.

He finally pulled you all the way back and stood, pulling you up with him. You were pressed up against him, your back flush with his chest.

He grabbed your hair roughly, pulling your head back until you could look up into his eyes.

“You’re gonna pay for that you little bitch.”

You swallowed.

He released your hair and pushed you through the open doorway. You fought the entire way, digging in your heels as best you could. It dawned on you that you still only had one shoe.

You were brought into the brightness of the hull, blinking at the light furiously.

You noticed several things simultaneously. Firstly, and most importantly, there was a man _levitating in front of you._

_Um, what?_

Just as quickly as he was lifted, he dropped.

His body crumpled to the ground, and behind him was the child. His arms were raised and his eyes were closed in concentration. As the man hit, the child lowered his hands and fell back to sit on the hull floor, eyes blinking tiredly.

Your eyes were torn away from the scene in front of you to the loud sound of blaster fire. Mando was outside of the bay doors, surrounded by three assailants. He was fighting lightning fast, shooting out a grapple line to the nearest one, pulling him from his feet to hit the ground hard. Another lunged. Before his raised fist had time to make contact, Mando raised his arm and blocked, sending his own first flying toward his exposed face. Blood burst forth and a sick crunching noise reverberated through the yard.

Your attention was pulled once again as you heard a small cry. You turned your head to see the previously levitating man pick up the child, holding him too tightly to his chest. He squeaked out another wine.

Your stomach dropped, you tried to lunge for the child, but the arms holding you were tight on your upper body. You kicked your legs out wildly, trying desperately to reach the man holding the child.

“Let him go! You’re hurting him!”

Another harsh tug on your braid cut off any further words.

“Shut up”

The Mandalorian must have also heard the cries from the child, as he had stopped fighting and was staring daggers at the man holding him. You saw the man reach for his blaster, holding it to the child’s side. Your blood ran cold.

You hardly noticed a blaster being pushed into your side as well.

“Give it up Mando, were holding both of the bounties”

_Both?_

The Mandalorian stood silently, blaster-free hand clenched tight. The previously downed men were slowly returning to their feet around him, still cautious.

The man holding you spoke,

“Surrender and we won’t have to kill you”

Still no words from the Mandalorian.

The man holding you again,

“Or we could kill the kid. Client said dead or alive, after all”

_Bounty? For the kid?_

However slight it was, you saw Mando stiffen at his words.

Silence again. Then, Mando slowly began to lower his blaster to the ground.

The man holding the child nodded to the three men surrounding him,

“Cuff him”

They timidly approached, the one with the broken nose reached him first, pulling his hands in front of him and clicking the cuffs on.

The man behind you shifted, making eye contact with the one holding the child, then-

“Shoot it”

_No!_

Then, several things happened at once. The man holding the child lifted his blaster, clicking it in preparation. You heard a rough shout from the ground in a language you didn’t recognize. And, before you even knew what you were doing, you slipped the shard piece of metal down your sleeve, gripping it tightly, and gammed it into the side of the man holding you.

He screamed in pain, his grip on you releasing. Warm blood gushed over your fingers. You tried to rip it out of him, wanting to use it to attack the other man, but the blood made your fingers slick. The man fell back with your only weapon still stuck in his torso.

A snarl made you whip your head around just in time to see the other man drop the child and charge at you. You tried to side-step, but he was on you too fast. He knocked you to the ground, your head hitting hard on the durasteel beneath you. You saw stars, his hands wrapped around your throat. Yours flew up to grab his wrists, tugging desperately and digging your nails in. He didn’t budge, only increasing the pressure on your windpipe. Black dots danced across your vision and blood roared in your ears. You planted your feet to the ground, trying to raise your hips enough to throw him off.

It was no use. The edges of your vision began to fade, your teeth, previously gritted, now opened to gasp for air desperately.

You hoped the child was okay.

Before the last dots of light could leave your sight, the pressure was suddenly lifted from your throat along with the entire body on top of you. You rolled to the side and heaved, your chest moving in and out at a painful rate. You coughed, holding a hand to your throat, still feeling the phantom pressure there. When you had finally regained enough air to move, you glanced over your shoulder to see the fate of your attacker.

Mando was there. He held the man with his back to his chest, arm wrapped around his neck. The man clawed desperately at the pressure, his feet dangling several inches off the ground. Mando squeezed.

After a few seconds, you heard a resounding _crack_ and the man went limp.

You winced from your place on the floor, still feeling pity even though he had almost just done the same to you.

Mando dropped the man heavily, his body crumpling to the floor. Behind him, all three men that had been previously surrounding him lay dead. You were confused, and not just from the lack of oxygen.

 _Mando did all that in cuffs?_ You wondered as he snapped that very pair. 

You looked back over to him, he was now crouching down to scoop up the child, who hadn’t moved from where he was dropped. He held him close, adjusting his tunic from where it had shifted during the fall. A small green hand reached down and gripped Mando’s gloved thumb, looking up at him with wide eyes. You couldn’t stop a small smile at the child’s reassurance of his father.

He turned his attention to you, then.

“Are you hurt?”

“No,” you said, without even thinking. If you were being honest, you felt completely numb. “Is he okay?”

Mando looked down at the child who simply stared back up at him.

“Yes”

A beat, then,

“Thank you”

You looked at him from the ground, blinking. Your cheeks warmed at his words.

 _Stop it_ , you told yourself, you saved his kid’s life. _Of course he was going to thank you._ There was nothing else to it.

“Of course…it’s what anyone would have done.”

“You greatly overestimate the majority of the galaxy”

_Was that a joke?_

Before you could decide, he was reaching down to help you up. You raised your still shaking hands to his. Before your fingers could close around it, however, a bolt of pain laced down your palm as it made contact with his glove. You hissed and pulled back quickly, bringing your hand up to your face to inspect it. Because of excessive blood covering your hands, you hadn’t noticed the long, gagged cut that was now gracing your palm.

Squeezing a gagged piece of shrapnel wasn’t your brightest idea.

You heard metal clinking, and you looked up into the helmet of the Mandalorian who was now crouched next to you. He tilted his head, inspecting your injured hand that was still held close to your chest. Then, he made a move for it. You flinched drawing your hand back further. He stopped his hand mid-air. He then flipped it palm up, waiting for you to place your hands in his. You slowly pulled them from your chest and he wrapped his fingers around your bound wrists.

_His whole hand could wrap around your wrists._

Now was really not the time.

He was close enough that you could hear his breathing, still audible from the fight. It came out as small cracks from the modulator. It made him seem… _human_. Well, at least in a sense. You still had no idea what he looked like under there. He could be just as green as the child.

Your name shook you from your thoughts. Your eyes refocused on the visor in front of you.

“What?”

“I said I’m going to clean it”

“Oh…sure. Thanks”

He nodded. His hand gripped your elbow as he helped you up with him. He gestured toward the same crate the child was sitting on, prompting you to sit down. You had hardly lifted your foot off the ground when you heard a grunt from behind you.

Before you could react, an arm wrapped around your torso and pushed you. You were then faced with a wall of black fabric, a cloak, Mando’s hand still placed on your hip holding you behind him.

_Um, okay?_

You peaked out around his shoulder to see where the noise had originated.

_Oh._

The man that _you had stabbed_ was lying on the floor of the ship still. He had groaned in pain.

Looking at him on the ground, the reality of what you had done crashed over you, stealing the air from your lungs. You had tried, and probably soon will have succeeded, in _killing someone_.

You stared with wide eyes. You had never done anything else like this. You’d been in a few bar brawls, sure, but you had never _hurt_ anyone., … _killed_ anyone.

The Mandalorian relaxed his stance once he perceived no threat, removing his hand from your hip. He upholstered his blaster from his hip and stalked over to the figure.

Your mind still reeling, you opened your mouth to say something, but only a high-pitched breath came out.

It was enough for Mando to notice, however, he glanced at you, waiting for further words with the blaster still aimed, ready to kill the man.

“He’s already hurt… you don’t…”

Breaking off your stumbling sentence was another gurgled grunt from the man. Mando’s attention was once again focused on the ground.

A shaky breath then, “…Pl-pleas-“

Mando cut off the plea with a blaster shot to the head.

You winced hard.

He walked back over to you. He seemed completely unaffected. All the emotions of the day, of the past several days, boiled over inside of you.

They came out as anger, directed at your captor.

“What the hell was that for? He was already hurt, there was no need!”

He moved you back to the crate, pushing you to sit down next to the child.

You fought against his grip, you were so _tired_ of him not responding to you.

“L-Let… me… go!” you punctuated each wretch of your shoulders until he dropped his hands. He stood tall over you. You felt like a child. It pissed you off.

You struggled with what to say, “That was cruel… _you’re_ cruel.”

He was so close that he had to dip his chin down to look at you properly.

“You were the one that did that to him. What I did to him was merciful. It was more than he deserved.”

You were blown back by his words, almost falling back onto the crate. You opened your mouth to respond, but instead, you just kept doing it over and over, gasping like a fish.

“Just sit down”

He moved over near his bed, rummaging through some supplies. You made a face at his back and tried to cross your arms and sit on the crate, but you forgot your hands were still cuffed. So you ended up just resting your arms in a mimic of the position, hoping to get your annoyance across to him. He righted himself, now holding a medpac.

He made his way back over to you, setting the medpac down and kneeling in front of you. He held out his hand, again asking for you to deliver your injured one. You scowled at his helmet, huffing as you did so. He began to disinfect your hand, the stinging in your hand was almost enough to distract you from driving your angry gaze into the top of his helmet.

You decided to push the subject,

“I stabbed him to protect the kid, I figured that you would be _grateful_.”

“I am, I never said you shouldn’t have done it.”

“Then…” You took a second to think before continuing. He was right, he never said you did anything wrong. He just said that you stabbed him. No matter how much you hated it, he was right. You just didn’t want to admit to yourself what you had done. He might not care about killing people, but you did. You were _decent_ , unlike him. That’s what you were trying to convince yourself, anyway.

Silence fell between you. You turned your eyes downward, playing the scene over and over in your head.

He finished applying the dressing to your wound. With the bacta, it would be healed completely in a matter of days. Your wound would be gone while your assailant was still lying dead across the hull.

You stared at the man, _his eyes were still open._

Mando’s gloved hand on your arm caught your attention, he must have seen the look on your face. You looked up at him then.

Quietly, he said, “You’ve never killed anyone?”

You let out a shaky breath,

“N-no, never.” you confirmed.

He paused, seemingly unsure of what to say next. Maybe he was surprised. Then,

“You did what you had to do.”

_Did you?_

He stood up, moving away from your seated form. He walked to the closest body, hooking his elbows around his armpits and dragging him down the ramp.

As he came back for the second body, you felt a tug on your braid. You looked down to see the child, climbing his way onto your lap using your hair as a sort of rope. You gave him a small smile as he settled between your arms. He cooed softly, nuzzling into your tunic. The Mandalorian probably wouldn’t like him sleeping on you, but you didn’t have it in your heart to tell him no. Besides, his presence was relaxing, unlike his father’s.

By this point, Mando had removed both bodies from the ship. You looked at the trail of blood left on the ground and shivered.

You began sifting through everything that had happened since you woke up, which had been _a lot._ The attack, of course, had left you scared. But, more important to your current “being transported to your death” situation, were the interactions you had with Mando. You saved his child, he dressed your wound, and _he had protected you._ You tried to attribute it to some instinct to protect his bounty, but you still felt it was something _more_.

You didn’t care what it meant, as long as it gained you leverage in getting out of this mess.

The hull of the ship began to close. Mando had simply left the bodies piled in the middle of the hangar.

“You’re just going to…leave them there?”

“We’ve been here too long already, there could be more of them”

Good point. If not only for your sake but for the child’s as well, you preferred to stay as far away from other bounty hunters as possible.

Mando stopped at the ladder to the cockpit before climbing up, his visor zeroing on the child in your lap.

You sighed, “I just saved his life, you think I would hurt him now? He’s asleep just…just get us out of here.”

You could tell he was debating behind his helmet.

“Please?”

He huffed, then placed his hand on the first rung and began to ascend.

Once his last foot disappeared and the doors slid shut, you deflated, shoulders slumping and head falling forward, willing to let down your guard now that it was just you and the child. As you felt the ship rise for takeoff, you took account of the various aches and pains in your body. Your hand, of course, burned. The bacta was working, but that didn’t make the pain disappear. Next, your throat. It was hard to swallow, your windpipe felt too small. You were sure there were some nasty handprints forming there. Beyond that, you had escaped with only a dull ache in your head from your braid being pulled on one too many times.

You really needed to cut your hair when you got a chance.

That thought led back to the _only issue you should have been focusing on._

You wondered if Mando would repay your efforts with some information about your bounty.

At that moment, the child began to stir in your arms. He seemed restless, shifting and grabbing at your clothes. You looked down at him, prompting him to do the same. He reached up and put his hands on your cheeks.

He looked you dead in the eye, face stoic, and said “Merhhh”

You actually laughed out loud, the sound ringing out through the ship. “Is that so?’ you asked back.

He continued to babble furiously, overjoyed at getting a response from you. You figured it was a rare occurrence with his near-silent father.

You continued to indulge him, nodding and giving counterpoints to his imaginary argument. After one particularly long string of sounds, you reeled back, feigning disbelief, “Well we saw how that worked for the Trade Federation, you’re crazier than you look, kid.”

You were so engrossed in your one-sided conversation that you hadn’t noticed Mando descend the ladder, watching you and the child talk. He made his presence known with a cough and you jumped so hard you almost dropped the kid. “Stars! Don’t _do_ that!”

“Sorry” he said, with a hint of what might have been sincerity.

He walked over to you. The child swiftly traded his conversation with you for Mando’s outstretched arms. He clambered over your cuffs and almost fell in his attempt to reach the gloved hands as fast as possible.

Once he was situated in the arms of the Mandalorian, he looked back to you and raised one little hand, giving you a small wave. You raised your hands slightly and mimicked the motion with a smile.

The Mandalorian spoke then, “Your neck, does it hurt?”

You shifted your head, testing the pain. “I’m sure it looks worse than it feels”. He cocked his head at you. It must look pretty bad, then. “I’m fine… just can’t breathe all that well.”

It was true, but you also hoped it would buy you some pity. You still needed to win his favor for information.

He reached down to the medpac still sitting next to you on the ground, rummaging around with his free hand. He straightened with a tube of bacta cream, he held it out to you.

You lifted an eyebrow at him and wriggled your hands in the cuffs, nodding down to them. “Can’t exactly do that with these on.” He paused, drawing the tube back slightly, “Unless you want to do it for me…”

You regretted the words as soon as they came out of your mouth. You tapered off and looked down, biting the inside of your cheek nervously. _What the hell were you thinking?_ You had meant it to come out as a plea for a few minutes without the cuffs, but, it actually sounded like… _flirting?_

 _Maker, please don’t let him take it that way._ You wished you could melt through the floor. 

You saw him move out of the corner of your downcast eyes. You tensed in preparation for something. A hit, another grab at your braid, _something._

The only thing that came, however, was a gentle hand resting on your cuffs. You looked up, staring into the visor now facing your cuffs hands. He made quick work of them, holstering them back to his belt. Your eyes were facing your now-free hands when he once again held out the bacta cream to you.

“Quickly”

His word snapped you out of your shock, taking the tube from him, a quiet, “thankyousorry” falling from your lips. If he heard it, he didn’t respond, only turning away to open his sleeping quarters.

You started by rubbing your wrists gently, hissing as skin met raw skin. They weren’t as bad as you thought, but you figured you could still use some of the cream on them as well. You began with your neck, depositing a thick glob onto your fingertips. Gently, you pressed the cold cream into your skin rubbed. The cooling sensation began almost immediately and you let out a small sigh of relief.

As you continued to work the cream into your neck. You formed questions for the Mandalorian. _Was it dead or alive? Why was that man on Nevarro? When were you going to get there?_

You wondered what to ask first. The man with the answers was currently turned with his back to you, doing something with the kid in his bunk. You thought you saw him grab a jar of what you only could assume was food. You wondered what the kid ate.

As you looked at his back ( _Maker, he’s tall_ ) you saw a small, round puck hanging from his belt.

_Duh._

That was your bounty puck, most likely. You should just ask him to see it, it would give you the most information. You were still worried to push the bounty hunter, however. The familiar phrase “the worst he can do it say no” popped into your head. You tried to let it comfort you, but you knew it wasn’t true. Quite the opposite in fact.

If he didn’t like your questions, he could easily but a blaster bolt through your head. You shivered. You still had to try.

You went for it, “Can I see my bounty puck, at least?”

Mando stiffened where he stood feeding the child. He didn’t immediately say no, however. He stayed silent but didn’t restart his task.

You bit your lip, deciding to push it, “Come on, it’s only fair. I deserve to know.”

Still silence, but you saw his hand ghost over the puck on his hip.

“Please”

For the second time that day, Mando gave in to that word.

He released the puck from his belt and walked over to you, rolling it so it rested flat on his palm. You waited patiently, butterflies in your stomach as you waited for him to revel the hologram. He clicked a button and a bright blue flash filled the hull, making you blink. You opened your eyes to your own bruised, cut face staring back at you.

Your first thought, _how the hell did they get this picture?_

Your age, your injuries, _it must have been taken right after your mother died._

You squinted at the information below your face, attempting to read the small writing. Your birth planet, your age, and your full name all lined the bottom. You grimaced, you could go without seeing _that_ last name. _How did they even get it anyway?_

You searched for the information you wanted most, how and why your bounty was placed. You couldn’t find the name of the dignitary, however. _What?_

You kept searching before your eyes found the word “Client”.

_Finally._

You looked below and your stomach dropped to your feet.

_That couldn’t be right._

It must be a mistake. He’s dead _._

_He’s dead._

You saw it, you had _felt_ the last breaths leave his lungs.

_Right?_

_It must have been a mistake. That’s all…it can’t be real. It couldn’t-_

The confusion must have shown on your face, as Mando spoke then,

“You didn’t know the client was your father?”

_Confirmation._

The world seemed to crash down around you.

It was real. He was _alive_. And you were being delivered back to him, back to that cold, endless cruelty, back to that _hell._ You knew exactly why he wanted you.You knew what would happen if you went back.

You couldn’t- you _wouldn’t_ go back. Your breath was coming in short gasps now, your hands shaking. You would rather _die_ than let you him touch you again.

Your mind raced, screaming at you before a single thought burst through the panic,

_That was an option._

The realization hit you. In front of you was the perfect killing machine, already predisposed to nearly killing you. It was the _perfect option_.

That’s exactly what you would do.

A calm washed over you, your breathing slowed and your hands stilled. Mando had watched your reaction closely. His hand free of the puck was raised in a gesture one would use to calm a frightened animal.

He said your name questioningly. You looked up into his visor, the strange sense of calm rising to your expression as well. You were sure it looked unnerving based on your state only seconds ago.

He said your name once more in question and, instead of responding to him, you launched yourself directly at him.

You knew you wouldn’t have enough momentum to knock him over from your position on the crate, but you still blew him back a few steps. He grunted.

You were left essentially clinging to him, then, your arms wrapped around his neck and one knee wrapping around him. You had caught him off guard, his reaction time slow, allowing you to draw back your raised leg and knee him in the side, unprotected by beskar.

He finally seemed to catch up to the situation then. He growled low and grabbed your arms currently circling his neck and easily broke your grip. You began to fall back, the only thing holding you flush to him now being your knee. His top half fell with you, swiping your grounded leg out from under you on the way down. Your back hit the hold metal with a thud, knocking the air out of you. He knelt one knee heavily next to you, the sound of metal hitting metal ringing out.

You ended up with Mando hunched over you, one hand on your throat and one holding the blaster closely to your forehead. Your knee ended up being still hooked up near his non-kneeling hip. You would have blushed at the position if you weren’t about to die.

He pushed his blaster into your forehead hard and the grip on your throat tightened, making stars dance in your vision.

Between his pants, he ground out, “I should kill you for that”

You gasped around his hand, hoping the sincerity would come out in your voice,

“Pl-Please”

...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know what you think!
> 
> https://soggy-platee.tumblr.com/


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Din's POV on this one! Sorry for those not really into the plot, it's really heavy in this chapter. I hope you guys like her backstory! Fluff and smut coming kind of soon, too, I swear! I did say slow burn...
> 
> She breathed deeply and looked up into the visor across from her once more.
> 
> “…he said that he killed her. That was it, no reason, no explanation…I never even saw her body, never got to say goodbye.”
> 
> A pause
> 
> “…to-to say I’m sorry. That it was all my fault…”

...

“Pl-Please”

Her response made Din hesitate.

What did she mean, _“Please”?_

She must have seen him pause, as she took the opportunity to start grappling with him again. She grabbed at his pauldrons and his chest piece, trying to gain leverage. She, of course, would never be able to budge him.

_Why wasn’t she going for the blaster?_

He lessened his hold on her throat and she gasped, coughing as she regained her breath.

“What are you doing?” he asked, confused but still pissed at her sudden attack.

She just kept hitting at him.

He moved his gunned hand and caught her right hand in midair as she went in for another hit, pinning it to the ground above her head.

“Would you st-“another hit with her left hand, “-fuck, just stop it, would you?” he huffed.

Her hits with her left slowed until she landed one last weak slap at his chest piece, leaving her hand planted there. Her expression was defeated, eyes closing. 

He relaxed somewhat, but he didn’t take his hand from her neck.

“What the hell was that about?”

“J-Just do it, would you?”

_Do what?_

She spoke again, weakly. She sounded on the verge of tears, “Just kill me. Please”

_Oh._

He had bounties ask him to kill them before, but it was always a part of attempted emotional manipulation. It never worked. This girl, however, jumped him first. Then asked. Was still asking. She had to of known it was a real possibility when she attacked him.

Under his visor, his brows furrowed. _What the hell was she playing at?_

Still suspicious, he chose a response, “Bounty’s warm, he wants you alive.”

A strange mix of joyless laughter and a sob escaped her before “…of fucking course he does” she said, “He couldn’t stand not getting his _specimen_ back”. Her voice dripped with venom, punctuating each word.

_Specimen?_

Din was confused, a feeling that instinctually made him on edge. He was tired of not knowing what was going on. He wanted _answers_.

“Why do you want me to kill you? What did you do?”

She scoffed, rearing her head back as best she could between his hand the hull floor. “Wh-what did _I_ do? _Me_? _I_ didn’t do _anything_!”, she yelled up at him, voice catching, “He was the one who… I never meant to-to...”

She paused, the anger of her previous sentence quickly fading.

Her half-hearted defense did nothing but make Din more confused.

He growled, out of annoyance more than anger this time, “Just _tell me what happened_.”

She steeled her expression, but her shaky breaths gave her away. Then, she said,

“I got my parents killed.”

Din mouth formed a line, “The bounty was placed by your father.”

She sneered at the mention of him, “That _bastard_ is only my father by blood, nothing more. My parents-my _real_ parents-I’m…the reason they’re dead.”

Now that he was getting some answers and she seemed to have calmed down from her _suicidal rage_ , he lifted his hand from her throat. She breathed deeply, but he hadn’t been putting pressure on her for several minutes. He pulled his blaster up from her right hand as well, allowing her to unhook her leg from his and sit up, moving away and pulling her knees to her chest. Din stayed in his one-knee down position, allowing her to scoot back.

He looked at her, awaiting a further explanation. She took a breath, then launched in.

“My mother met my biological father on Coruscant. He worked for the empire there, a-a scientist or something. He was well paid and connected, and she was young. From what she told me, he was fine at first, but then he was…different, _cruel_. She left when she found out she was pregnant with me.”

She took another breath, collecting her thoughts.

“She hopped a freighter and ended up on Nevarro. It was controlled by the empire, but the Outer Rim was far enough away…she thought. There she met my real father. Everything was fine…it was _happy_. My mother never told me my father was a monster. She told me just enough to quell my questions. But I-I just couldn’t leave it _alone_. So, I got older, more curious. I started asking around, using his name. Sh-she told me never to use it but I was _young_ and _stupid_ and I…”

Her voice grew thick, holding back tears that threatened to spill. Din watched silently. She sniffled, and continued in a quiet voice,

“…someone must have told him, he had so many contacts, I’m sure that no one in our village…either way, …he found out we were there. My mother and I went to the market like every other day, but we came home and my father was dead. _He_ was there, with guards and a ship. My mother tried to fight, but with me there, she had no choice…”

She trailed off. The story wasn’t finished, but she made no indication she intended to finish.

Din hesitated, before prompting, “What happened to your mother?”

She looked up at him, having zoned out to a space in the distance. She gave a small smile, eyes sad.

“She was a fighter, she fought for so long…He took us back to Coruscant with him, he was still working with the empire. The _things_ he did, his _work_ ”, she spat the word, “…he was a monster. The Empire was dying, and they were getting desperate. He knew he wouldn’t have his position forever, so his research got more intense, faster, _darker_. He was researching…carbon freezing, w-what it did to living things. He started small, but the empire was no stranger to cruelty. He had many subjects. Some made it…others didn’t. His resources were depleting, though, along with the Empire. He ran out of subjects. The only…the only option left w-was me.” The last words emerged from gritted teeth.

Din’s fists tightened.

She continued, “Short times. At first, in-in the carbon. Days at most. Every time I came out I was poked and prodded, half-blind and _freezing_. Then…it got longer. Days to weeks, months…a y- _year_. I hardly ever got to see my mother. When I would come out, though, I could hear her screaming, fighting on the other side of the lab doors every time. Then…then one day, I came out. It was a long one, I could tell. I was in too much pain, I could hardly focus on anything. B-but I noticed it was quiet. I asked him where she was, a-and-“

She stumbled, tears finally spilling over. She pressed a hand to her mouth, stifling her first sob. Din didn’t _, couldn’t_ move. He was ridged, grounded to the spot across from her.

The girl stifled another loud sob, hunching over with the effort when a hand found her knee. She opened her reddened eyes and looked down at the child. He cooed at her when she made eye contact, raising his arms to her. She let out a small laugh through her tears and picked him up, holding him close to her chest. She nuzzled into his head, saying softly, “thank you, little one.”

She breathed deeply and looked up into the visor across from her once more.

“…he said that he killed her. That was it, no reason, no explanation…I never even saw her body, never got to say goodbye.”

A pause

“…to-to say I’m _sorry_. That it was all _my_ _fault_ …”

Din actually flinched at how _broken_ she sounded, how convinced she was that she was to blame.

She continued, quicker now.

“I had given up after that, really. I never fought, just let him do his worst, hoping that one day he would go too far and kill me like the others. Until one day, I was unfrozen and no one was there. After my eyes adjusted, I saw the lab was in ruins. He was there, shot. I just stood there, watching him _bleed_. He knew I could have helped him, but he just _looked_ at me as he died, too proud even then…”

She sighed, shaking her head to clear it. She finished, “then I got out, starting steeling. Then-well, you know the story from there, I guess.”

It was rare that Din didn’t know what to do next, but this was one of those times. He thought back to her previous behavior, the look in her eye as he had pushed her toward the carbonite. He was angry, for her, at her monster of a father, at _himself._

Din usually never asked questions. It was for others to judge the morality of what his bounties had done. But, contrary to her belief, this girl hadn’t done anything wrong in the first place. Hell, she almost had a breakdown over stabbing someone in _self-defense_.

A victim of circumstance, wanted for something out of her control.

He had heard that story before.

Two large brown eyes flashed in his mind. As he looked into hers, he saw the same innocence reflected in them.

She seemed much calmer now, holding tightly to the child in her lap. She was shifting under his gaze, nervous.

He didn’t want to speak, anger still boiling under the surface.

She hesitated, opening and shutting her mouth. She spoke softly, “so…please? I-I just don’t think I could do it m-myself.”

Her question made his head jerk in realization.

She told this entire story not out of the hope that he would free her, but out of the hope that he would _agree to_ _kill her_?

If possible, his blood ran hotter than before. She took his silence as deliberation.

She stuttered, trying to convince him, “P-please I can’t go back, I _can’t-“._ She began to breathe heavily, the panic from earlier returning. Her eyes widened then and, lifting one hand from around the child, she reached up to one side of her tunic and pulled, revealing a portion of her chest, shoulder, and arm.

The skin there was _covered_ with scars. Thick, roping ones, thin, long lines, _burns_. Words were tumbling out of her mouth, “look at what he did, _look_! Please, just _killme-_ ”, but Din could barely hear them over the blood roaring in his ears.

He finally snapped out of his fixation on her skin when the child began to whine, the tension in the room becoming too much for him.

She stopped as well, letting her desperate pleas hang in the air to check on the child. She smoothed a hand over his ears, consoling him with soft sounds.

He took his chance, saying her name with measured gentleness.

She looked up at him, eyes rimmed red and puffy. She swallowed hard.

He tried to make his voice both firm and soft, “I’m not going to hurt you-“

She cut him off, eyes going wide, “but please you-“

He raised a hand, effectively silencing her.

“I’m not going to give you over to your fa-, to _him,_ either _”_ , he caught himself, figuring she wouldn’t enjoy him referring to that man as such.

She drew in her brows, a confused and nervous look taking over her face. She hunched her shoulders defensively, “t-then what are you going to _do_ to me?”

That was a good question. He couldn’t just let her go, hunters would just keep coming after her. Also, she knew far too much about the child and himself for him to risk her falling into the hands of one of his many enemies.

Well, if there was only one option.

“You’ll stay here until we can figure something out.”

Din had to admit, it wasn’t his best plan. It wasn’t really a _plan_ at all.

Her eyes widened at his words. He could see her mind racing behind her eyes. For a brief second, he wondered if she would object. What would he do then?

“…why? Why would you do that…” The silent end to her question hung in the air,

_“for me?”_

He really couldn’t come up with an honest answer, and even if he could, he would never share it aloud.

Instead, he said “You know too much about the kid and me, you’re dangerous on your own”

Din could have sworn he saw disappointment tinge her expression, however briefly.

“Oh, of course. But you have to know, I would _never-“_

“I’m not talking willingly”

Din regretted the words as soon as he saw her flinch at the harsh idea he planted. It was true, though. He had seen enough of her interactions with the child to know that she would never willingly give up information that could harm him, but his enemies were not opposed to such trivial things as torture.

He moved then, straightening from his still kneeling position on the ground. His beskar clinked loudly in the hull. From his vantage point, she looked even smaller than she usually did. Body still curled around the child, he could see all the hurt and pain from her past weighing heavy upon her shoulders. Her eyes had followed Din up, looking at him through clumped lashes still dark with tears.

He was really not good with… _this._ Anything dealing with emotions, he had no idea what to do. He managed with the child, finding it easier to comfort a being who couldn’t talk back. But with her, another adult, he was way out of his depth.

Instead of words, he reached down a hand to help her up.

She gave him a small smile of thanks, adjusting one arm to wrap around the child and lifting the other to grab his hand. Her grip was gentle, too gentle for someone who had been through that much.

Once she was standing, he reached into her arms and took the child. He was tired, Din could tell. He wasn’t surprised. Today wasn’t exactly _relaxing_. He felt soreness in his own bones. It had been several days since he had been able to remove his helmet, and he itched for air beyond the helmet.

He looked down into the girl’s eyes. There, of course, was a profound exhaustion in them as well. 

He cleared his throat and spoke, “You should get some sleep.”

She blinked several times up at him before the meaning of his words hit her, “Oh-oh yeah. That sounds like a good idea.”

She deliberated before sidestepping Din, making a line for the small storage room at the back of the craft. He grimaced at the memory of her being drug out of the room, a harsh grip on her hair and blaster pressed to her side. He stopped her before she could move far, grabbing her clothed shoulder gently with his glove.

She tensed, then turned around slowly. He let his arm drop as soon as she began to spin.

“You can take the bunk, I’ll take the kid to the cockpit.”

“Oh-no I-I couldn’t-“

He cut her off, “Please, just take it. It’s the least I can do.”

It was.

She bit the inside of her cheek, a motion he had begun to notice she did often. Before saying quietly, “Thank you”

He nodded silently and moved to take the child up the ladder. Out of the corner of his visor, he saw her crawl into his bunk. _Something_ stirred low in his stomach.

It wasn’t something he wanted to think about right now.

...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> https://soggy-platee.tumblr.com/


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shorter chapter here! Next one will be bigger, promise!
> 
> You were at a loss for words.
> 
> “You have to be kidding. She ran into me, all I did was help her up.”
> 
> “And let her near the child. You could have gotten him killed.”
> 
> You reared back at his accusation, eyes growing wide. Anger flooded you.
> 
> “Wh-What would you have me do? Trample over the next little girl in my path?”

…

You felt…

Well, you didn’t really _know_ how you felt. You thought you would be overwhelmed. Raw. Confused. Angry.

_Something._

But you didn’t. All you felt was bone-deep _tiredness_. You didn’t have enough energy to process everything that had happened that night. Almost dying, being pinned down by the Mandalorian.

_Sharing your life story with a complete stranger._

You shivered at the memory. You don’t know how he could stand to look at you after you finished, let you live.

Let alone let you stay on his ship. Sleep in a bunk. _His bunk_.

_“Please, just take it. It’s the least I can do.”_

Why did he say that? It was kind, much more kindness than you deserved. The way he said it, he almost seemed… _sorry?_

The critical thinking was giving you a sharp headache on top of the dull one that had been persisting since Mando first took you down in the cantina.

You needed sleep. You could figure out what the hell happened tomorrow.

You rolled onto your side, sliding your hand under the surprisingly soft pillow and hauling the blanket up around your shoulders, pulling your legs up toward your chest. The movement of the blanket sent a wave of pure _Mando_ wafting toward your nose.

He smelled like leather and blaster residue on the surface, but underneath was something else. Something _warm._

You let the scent lull you into a fitful rest.

…

The first few days on the ship, the _Razor Crest_ you had learned, were…strange. To say the least.

You wanted to call them awkward, but was that even possible when you hadn’t even _spoken_ to each other?

He remained in the cockpit when at all possible, skirting around you with a wide berth whenever he was forced to come into the belly of the ship. While you couldn’t tell where his eyes were, his helmet always seemed to be pointed in the opposite direction of yours. After you had woken up on the first day, he told you where the necessities were in curt words, and that had been all. 

You had never done well in social situations. You hated them, most of the time, but this overwhelming silence was _somehow_ worse. The only thing keeping you sane was the child. He often spent his time with you in the hull, always making his way from the cockpit without you noticing. Mando seemed content to leave you and the child alone, so you gratefully took the company. You played with him, napped with him, and talked with him. You let your thoughts loose on those large ears nearly constantly. You whispered to him as to not let the Mandalorian hear you, and he always matched your quiet tone, babbling softly back at you whenever a break in your rambling came about. He was always so attentive to your words, you almost thought he could understand you.

 _Maybe he could_.

You had seen him do more…things, since you had taken up residence on the ship. Nothing as large as lifting that bounty hunter, no, but still. He could pull things to him. Or push them away. He did that once, while you were feeding him a particularly unappetizing ration. He was shaking his head, avoiding your hand pushing the spoon toward his little mouth. You huffed and hosted him higher onto your lap.

“Please? I know it’s not the best but you need to eat.”

A particularly grumpy _bahhh_ came in response.

You sighed and went in for another pass with the spoon. You got close to his face again, slowly drifting the utensil back and forth mimicking a star ship. He didn’t pull his head away this time. Encouraged, you pushed the spoon closer to his mouth, the end touching his pouted lower lip. The next thing you knew, your hand, _your whole arm_ , was being forced back. It didn’t hurt, but it did startle you. You gasped and dropped the spoon at your feet, its clattering ringing through the ship.

You heard a small giggle from the form below you, and you twisted your neck and torso to look into his crinkled eyes below.

“Young man! You shouldn’t…that’s not…”

You were lost for words. How do you scold a little wizard for using _magic_?

Before you could come up with an answer could come, Mando was suddenly at the bottom of the ladder. He looked tense, his spine straight and hand hovering over his blaster gaze fixed on you and the child.

You started at the sight of him, an arm tightening around the child in your lap. You immediately relaxed, however, letting out a sigh. Your annoyance at being scared twice in under a minute made you braver with your words,

“What is _with_ you two and scaring me?” you huffed, eyes wide with leftover adrenaline.

“What happened?” were the only words you got from his modulated tone.

“Nothing, he just used his powers, made me drop the spoon. It’s fine.”

You realized then that you had never really talked about what the child could do. You knew that he knew, he wasn’t at all surprised when he healed you or when he levitated that man. He also knew that you knew, but never offered a further explanation. If it weren’t for your still rather precarious relationship with him, you would have made him sit down and explain everything right then and there. 

You were shaken from your thought by the child being pulled from your lap. You looked up into the dark visor with a question in your eyes.

“Get some sleep.” He said, turning his back to you.

You were confused, you weren’t tired in the slightest. “Why?” you questioned.

Without stopping his progress to the cockpit, he said, “We're stopping for supplies.”

You swallowed harshly at his words. _Why did that make you nervous?_ You thought you were already in the most uncomfortable position possible, but the prospect of leaving the ship made your stomach flip.

Maybe sleeping was a good idea after all.

….

You stood now in front of the bay doors as they opened. You never asked where you had landed for supplies, and you were interested to see what landscape lie outside the door. A bright light flashed in your vision, and as your eyes adjusted you saw…sand. 

Of course it would be another fucking desert planet. You bit back a sigh at the prospect of the burning heat and dry air as you followed Mando down the ramp. He had given you the child before you had left the ship, pushing him into your arms and muttering something about keeping him safe. That is how you traversed the city, the Mandalorian to your right, strapped from head to toe in weapons, and you to his left, strapped with a strange green baby.

It was no wonder you were getting looks.

The market in the town was bustling, people moving all about and voices filling the air. You just wanted to squeeze your eyes shut and cover your ears. It was overwhelming after being on Tatooine for so long. You tugged the child closer to your chest as you struggled to keep stride with Mando’s big steps. You normally weaved through crowds, avoiding as many people as possible, but with Mando at your side, you had to do no such thing. There was at least a three-foot gap on either side of your small group, nervous eyes turned toward the sand all around you. People quickly moved out of your way at all costs, bumping and shoving each other in the process.

It felt… _good_.

Simply being next to one so powerful, so _feared_ , sent a thrill down your spine.

The brief egomania that overtook you was interrupted when you ran square into a small form. You stopped abruptly, pushed back a step by the force as the form in front of you fell back from it. You looked down at your feet and saw a small Twi'lek. You hesitated for a moment, trying to figure out how to help her up without dropping the child, when she immediately began scrambling to her feet in front of you in panic. You reached out your hand to steady her when she reached her feet and bent down to meet her at eye level. Apologizes began to tumble from her mouth in a thickly accented basic.

You smiled at her response, and soothed your hand down her arm, speaking “It’s okay, _Ma sareen,_ it's okay.”

Her eyes widened at your inclusion of her own language, and her scared expression slowly changed into a shy smile. Yours widened back at her. She then noticed the child in your arms, raising her hand in a small wave to him. He squealed in delight and raised one back to her. The girl giggled then, a light sound that made your heart swell.

Your eyes glanced up when you heard another voice in Twi'leki, calling, “ _Numa, Chini wachamio_!”

An older Twi'lek was calling to her, _sister_ , you translated from her words. She gave you a quick farewell before running back to her family. You straighten, adjusting your tunic as you went. It was only then that you noticed Mando standing unmoving next to you. It’s almost like he wanted to say something, the way he hovered over you, hands twitching slightly.

Then, he began moving again, reaching out a hand to usher you forward through the crowd.

…

It was dark by the time you got back to the _Crest_. Your shopping experience had been uneventful, just picking up the base necessities. With Mando’s now lack of a bounty, he was running low on credits. While the day had been normal by most accounts, you couldn’t shake the feeling that Mando was upset with you. He hardly spared you a glance save for checking on the child. This was normal, of course, but he seemed _tense_ while around you, while close to you.

You shook the feeling from you as the bay doors closed. You strode inside before Mando, wanting to set the child down as soon as possible. You didn’t care how little he was, having him on your hip all day was killing your back.

You set him in his pram, and he immediately nestled into the fabric there. He must have been tired, busy day after all. You stroked his ear gently before closing the lid of the pram, letting him drift to sleep in the peaceful darkness. You wanted nothing more than to do the exact same thing, moving to the fresher to get ready for bed. Before you could reach the small door, however, Mando cut off your path.

You drew back. He put himself in front of you, much closer than you had ever been in the past two days. Closer enough that you had to crane your neck to look into his helmet.

“What?” you said tiredly, letting exasperation slip into your voice. Any other time, you would have shrunk back from his closeness, his strange silence. But you were _tired_.

He stood silently for another moment before grunting, “You can’t let the kid near strangers like that.”

Out of all the things he could say after staying virtually silent for the past several days, that is what he chooses?

Confused, you raised your eyebrows at him, “You mean the Twi'lek girl?”

“Yes. It was reckless.” His voice was unreadable. He had to be joking though, _right_?

You snorted, “That _child_ wasn’t a threat, she was a _kid.”_

“Doesn’t matter.”

You were at a loss for words.

“You have to be kidding. She ran into me, all I did was help her up.”

“And let her near the child. You could have gotten him killed.”

You reared back at his accusation, eyes growing wide. Anger flooded you.

“Wh-What would you have me do? Trample over the next little girl in my path?”

It was a bit of a low shot, but _he_ was the one being unreasonable. A little girl? Trying to kill the child? He really was made of metal.

He titled his head, annoyed at your snarky response.

“You know what I mean,” he growled out, more annoyed now.

“I’m not sure I do. Not everyone is a potential murderer in this universe, Mando, especially not a child.”

He was pissed at your lack of concern for putting the child in danger, your lack of acknowledgment of your mistake. The next words that came out of his mouth were fueled purely by his protectiveness of the child.

“What? Like you?”

His words felt like cold water, harsh and crushing all around you. Your mouth opened and shut several times in shock. You wanted to respond, wanted to yell at him, _to scream_. But you couldn’t.

_He was right, after all._

You shut your mouth, teeth gritting down in anger. You pushed past him roughly. He must have let you pass, or you would have never been able to move him. You reached the fresher door and wrenched it open. You heard him call your name quietly before you pulled the door roughly behind you.

Only when you heard him climb the ladder to the cockpit did you allow yourself to cry.

…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Twi'leki
> 
> Numa- Sister  
> Chini, wachamio!- Come, let's go!  
> Ma sareen- My Sweet
> 
> https://soggy-platee.tumblr.com/


	8. Chapter 8: Interlude pt.2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A little bit of Din's pov again!

…

He regretted the words before they had even fully passed his lips.

“What? Like you?”

He knew it was only going to make things worse, but he was so _angry_ at her apparent disregard for the child’s safety. She didn’t know the whole story, how far these people would go to get to him. He knew that she didn’t understand, but he still let the piercing words fall from his mouth.

The girl stood shocked, mouth hanging open in place of a response. He saw confusion, anger, hurt, pass through her eyes before she clamped her jaw and pushed past him roughly, jamming her shoulder against his arm.

Din could have stopped her, of course, but he thought better of it. She certainly wouldn’t want his hands on her right now. He turned as she stomped to the fresher. She wrenched the door open, and he called her name almost under his breath.

If she heard, she didn’t respond, only slamming the door in his face.

He stood, hands clenched, outside the door for a moment, debating on what to do. His anger was fading now, and he was left with the sting of regret. Something pulled his cape, shaking him from his thoughts. He looked down into the wide eyes of the kid as he cooed up at him, raising his hands expectantly. Din sighed and reached down to lift the small form into his arms. Din turned his helmet down to peer at him. Although he was sure he had no idea what had just happened, his little face still seemed to judge him. Great, that’s exactly what he needed, to disappoint another one of his charges.

He made his way to the cockpit, the kid in tow, to give the girl space. He set a course off the planet and reclined into his chair, kicking his boots onto the controls. His hands went up to the top of his helmet and ran down the front, a motion he often did without it on. He hadn’t allowed himself to take off it off in days, still cautious around his new passenger. This morning, he had been getting desperate, itching to feel air on his face. Now, however, the last thing he wanted to do was take off his armor. His armor, the beskar wall that surrounded him at all times, was his barrier from the outside world. Nothing could get to him under its protection, physical or else. But somehow…this _girl_ was working her way under it. Her bright eyes, her warmth with the child, her constant… _feelings_.

Emotions were something Din had shut himself off to a long time ago. In his experience, it only got people hurt. They were something he couldn’t afford and frankly something he didn’t want. He had been alone for so long, he had been _fine_ for so long. Then came the child, and he made him feel, made him _care_ for someone else.

Then she happened, all emotions and words and _feelings._

The silence of the cockpit was cut with a muffled noise from below deck. He didn’t have to strain to identify the sound. A sob, just like the ones he had heard from her several nights ago. A pang of… _something_ ran through him. The pang was replaced by frustration, slamming a fist into the armrest at his side.

It was driving him _crazy_. He _killed_ with less thought than he put into a single exchange of words with her. Why did he care that he upset her? She put the child in danger, she didn’t care. It should be simple.

It should be simple.

_Why wasn’t it?_

_…_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> https://soggy-platee.tumblr.com/


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so much for the feedback! It means the world!
> 
> "Oh.
> 
> Your face turned bright red at the sight below. There was the child’s head, of course, but right above it...your tunic lay open too wide, the curve of both your breasts on display. It must have come open during the night!
> 
> You quickly pulled the hem of your tunic up, refastening it as close to your neck as you could. 
> 
> What a way to start the day, basically flash your very recent captor-turned-savior."

…

You knew that you were being childish, you  _ knew _ it. But yet, you couldn’t stop yourself in your retorts. He was just looking after the child, however ridiculous his ideas might have been. No matter what way you replayed the situation, he had been right on all accounts. You had fucked up,  _ big _ . 

Your current position curled up on the floor of the fresher was a testament to that. You had calmed down from your uncontrollable sobs by now, but you still didn’t trust yourself to get up and leave the small space yet. You were afraid of what would happen when you did. What if he kicked you off the ship? What if he killed you? 

_ What if he decided to follow through with your bounty after all? _

It wouldn’t be out of line. You had put his kid in danger and then  _ denied _ doing so. The stress and tiredness of the last few days had gotten to you, and you were just so  _ stubborn _ . Ways to apologize ran through your mind, trying to fit all your thoughts into the least amount of words as possible. You knew he wouldn’t want to hear from you, so you had to make it quick. 

You hadn’t heard a noise since he had ascended the ladder, so you figured your apology would have to wait until morning. 

The inside of your cheek was basically chewed through by now, the anxiety threatened to overwhelm you. You steeled your nerves before moving to stand. You straightened, limbs stiff from your previous position. You peered at yourself in the small mirror, red eyes and messy hair stared back at you. Maybe it was good that you couldn’t apologize tonight, you thought you might die if he knew you were crying just because of that little spat. 

It had been the second time you had cried on this ship. It was more vulnerability than you had allowed yourself since your mother died 

_ Maker, you needed to get yourself together.  _

You tried to calm yourself while struggling to push your unruly hair into place, relaxed by the fact that you could at least have a night's rest before dealing with the consequences of your actions. You turned to face the door, took a deep breath, and walked out.

_ Well that couldn’t be right. _

You could have sworn that the interior of the hull lay outside the door, not a silver breastplate.

You slowly moved your eyes from your distorted reflection in the metal up to the unmistakable dark visor. 

You both stood a moment, him not making a noise and you struggling to keep your breathing under control. 

Then, all the self-control you had built up in the fresher collapsed at once. 

“I-I’m sorry, _so sorry._ I should have listened to- I didn’t even _think-”_

His hand raised quickly then, palm up facing you. You winced on instinct, figured he was going in for a hit. 

He pulled his hand back just as fast when you flinched, sighing and dropping it back to his side. You took the opportunity to keep going then.

“I-I put the child in danger and then had the  _ gaul  _ to debate y-you about it. I-It was reckless and stupid... _ I _ was stupid. And I’m sorry...”

He paused, considering your words. You waited for him to tell you to leave the ship. Or cuff you. Or.. _.something _ . As the seconds of his silence drew on, you were almost ready for him to hit you. Anything but this  _ waiting _ . 

He then took a breath in through his modulator, air crackling. 

You tensed. 

“You  _ shouldn’t  _ have argued with me.”

Well, that wasn’t that bad. His tone didn’t sound angry, it almost sounded... _ defeated? _

“And you  _ were  _ reckless. But only because you don’t know enough about the child.”

_ What? _

There was no way he was excusing your actions, was there?

You almost spoke again before he stepped back, gesturing for you to exit the fresher and move opposite to him in the hull. You did, resting the back of your thighs against a crate near the ladder. 

You were still confused, wary. Your brows were furrowed and your lips parted slightly. 

You figured you would ask, “ _ What  _ about the child do I not know?”

He sighed again, something that was becoming common in your presence, and began. 

“He’s different...you know what I’m talking about. He can do things. He was a bounty of mine originally, wanted by the empire for his powers. I...kept him, essentially. But his bounty is still open, it's high, and they know he’s with me.”

The realization hit you. There were hunters, many dangerous hunters  _ employed by the empire,  _ looking for the child. And you just let him interact with random strangers on a random planet. You felt sick. 

It must have shown in your face because Mando spoke up, calling your name. You looked up at him, unsure of what to say. 

He spoke instead, “It’s okay, you didn’t know.”

“I-I’m sorry” was all you could get out. 

“It’s okay.”

Silence fell in the ship, the only sound coming from the humming hyperdrive. 

You heard the crack of the modulator, and then, “and I’m sorry. For what I said. About you…. I don’t think of you-you’re not... _ that _ .”

You knew what he meant. 

_ A murderer. _

His words comforted you, but you knew he wasn’t being sincere. You were still stunned at his apology. He owed you no such thing. 

“Thank you, but…”

“No. Just...it’s okay.”

You looked at him, eyes wide and surly still red. You searched his visor, eyes flicking back and forth across the thin line where his eyes resided. You wondered what expression he was making right now. Things would be so much easier if you could  _ see _ him. You were good at reading expressions, it’s what saved you in most situations, but here, with him, you were at a loss. 

He actually shifted under your gaze, however slightly. He then moved, straightening his shoulders and gave you the standard “get some sleep” line. 

You were about to object, tell him that he was the one that needed sleep, when he brushed past you on his way to the ladder. 

He literally  _ brushed _ past you. His arm met yours ever so briefly, and his knuckles brushed yours gently. Your back stiffened at the touch, your entire body lighting up at the contact. It had to have been an accident,  _ it must have been. _ It was the first time he had touched you outside of necessity. 

The next thing you knew, he was gone. You were once again left alone in the hull. 

_ It didn’t mean anything _ , you tried to tell yourself. But your body didn’t listen. You remember his touch later that night, alone in his bunk. 

... 

You woke to a beat being played on your cheeks by small hands. Before you had even opened your eyes, you moved your fingers to wrap around the little wrists assaulting you. You heard a squeal and opened your eyes to meet joyful brown ones. Sitting up in the bunk, you moved him from your chest to your lap in one motion. The blanket shifted down to your lap as well. The cubby was open to the ship and you could see Mando in the far corner, crouched over some wiring at the floor of the ship in deep concentration. You stifled a yawn, somewhat wishing you had gotten more sleep. You shimmied your way out of the bunk with the kid in hand, and walked over to him. He must have heard you, but didn’t look up. Once the little one in your arms made a noise, he spoke, 

“Sorry to wake you, he wouldn’t stop whining at the door.”

You smiled at the thought, heart warmed by his quick bond with you. You looked down at him, rubbing at his ear. 

“What? Mando not giving you enough attention, huh?”

He looked up at you then, surely looking to respond to your accusation, when his helmet stopped dead at what you assumed was the child, failing to reach your face. 

You narrowed your eyes. “What?” you said, confused. 

He coughed and looked back down quickly at your question, helmet darting back to study the wires in his hands. You pulled your head back, your brows furrowing further. You look down toward where you had the child held at your stomach.  _ What the hell could possibly-  _

_ Oh. _

Your face turned bright red at the sight below. There was the child’s head, of course, but right above it...your tunic lay open too wide, the curve of both your breasts on display. It must have come open during the night!

You quickly pulled the hem of your tunic up, refastening it as close to your neck as you could. 

What a way to start the day, basically flash your  _ very recent _ captor-turned-savior. 

You tried to stutter out an apology, “I-I’m- I didn’t…”, then you just settled for a small, “sorry!” and nearly ran back to the bunk. You set the child down inside and rested your arms on the sides of the opening, trying to regain your composure. He cooed up at you, and you smiled down at him through gritted teeth. 

Maybe cohabitating was going to be harder than you thought. 

…

After that first incident, you were much more careful about your attire. You always checked your clothes before leaving the bunk. Although you weren’t sure, Mando did seem to keep his distance as well. He no longer got closer than necessary, pulling back quickly whenever he brushed you when taking the child from your arms. 

It was frustrating. 

It was becoming more and more difficult for you to deny your feelings toward him as the days on the ship passed. I mean, there was, of course, simply his  _ body _ . Maker, it was silly, but just his _ frame _ . He was tall, impossibly broad at the shoulders with a slight narrowing at his hips. His thighs, his  _ biceps. _ Everything he did, every action, exuded pure competence and confidence. You had practically drooled down your shirt the other day watching him move crates around the ship. But he was also soft, every so kind with the child. Seeing them together always made your heart clench. 

It was ridiculous and you knew it. That didn’t stop you from admiring him. 

You scoffed at yourself, though, as he clearly didn’t feel the same. Ever since he had seen your, um,  _ chest,  _ he had been avoiding you. Not just physically, but in conversation as well. All his responses to you were quick and to the point, never lingering more than he had to. 

You were surprised he was still putting up with you. 

The clipped nature of your conversation meant that you really had no idea where you were headed or what you were doing. Now that you thought about it, you really had no idea what was in store for you in your new role as... _ something _ ?

Babysitter/guest/hostage?

You considered your predicament as you sat on your usual crate, the one closest to the ladder on the left, bouncing the child on your lap. It had been three whole days since your argument, and you knew you would have to land soon, for supplies at least if not for a job. 

That was also something you had to consider. What would you do when Mando left for bounties? You assumed you would watch the kid, but...what else? You didn’t really know how to do much else. Couldn’t repair the ship, couldn’t fly,  _ hell _ , you weren’t even sure you knew how to use the tiny kitchenette in the hull.

You frowned at your own uselessness. 

Surly sensing your brooding mood, the child chirped, removing your braid from his mouth for a moment. That was a new _wonderful_ habit he had picked up, chewing on the last strands of your hair whenever you held him. You bounced him higher in response, earning a small giggle from him and pulling you back slightly from your grim mood. 

The clang of boots on metal rungs made you look sideways at Mando’s descending form. He hopped off the ladder and passed by you in a too-wide arc. 

_ Great, he’s still avoiding you.  _

You were about to question what today had in store when you felt the tell-tale lurch of the ship beginning to descend. 

As if on cue, Mando spoke, 

“I’ve got a bounty. You stay here with the kid.”

Well, you were right about the babysitting part. 

You stayed silent for a moment, watching him open the armory and began to strap himself with various weapons. It was quite the sight. 

“Did you hear me?”

You stutter at the suddenness of his words, “U-Uh yeah. Stay here. Watch the kid. Got it.”

He turned to you then, flipping his rifle over his back as he did. He stared at you, lingering for longer than it had in days. You shifted under his gaze, nervous to a near-fatal amount. 

Then he turned back to the cabinet, reaching in and rifling around for several seconds before grabbing something. You were too busy focused on his approach to notice what it was. Once he was only a few feet from you, you looked down to his hands. 

It was a blaster, smaller than any one you had ever seen him use. 

You looked at the weapon, and then back to his helm, one eyebrow raising. 

He held it out to you then, and you moved back several inches. 

Then he said, “Take it.”

“Why do I need that?”

“I’m not going to be here.”

You pause, then, “Okay, b-but we’re staying on the ship, right?”

“Yes. But you need to be able to protect yourself.”

“From what?”

“Anything.”

Not really an answer. 

“Is the ship not safe?”

“It is. Almost nothing can get through that door.”

“So...why do I need a blaster?”

He huffed, clearly annoyed with your line of questioning. “In case. Just take it. Please.”

You tentatively reached out your hand and he placed the hilt of the blaster in your open palm. The leather of his glover brushed over your hand and you shivered. Before you could pull back, he grabbed your wrist with his other hand, leaving the blaster blanched on your open palm. He pointed near the hilt of the weapon, saying, “ _ This _ is the safety.  _ Always  _ have that on when you're not actively using it.”

You gulped and nodded, nervous now with the blaster and his hand around your wrist. 

He spoke again, pointing at the trigger, “Just point and pull.  _ Do not _ point it at yourself, or the child, or me.  _ Do not _ shoot me when I come back, go it?

You frowned at his tone, you weren’t an  _ idiot _ .

“ _ Got it _ ?”

“ _ Yeah _ , yeah. Got it, got it”

He didn’t seem convinced with your answer, so you offered, “I’ve shot one before, I know how it works. I won’t point it at anyone and I won’t shoot you.”

That seemed to do the trick. He released your wrist and pulled back out of your space. You tested the weight of the blaster in your hand, bouncing it with a flick of your wrist. You weren’t lying, you  _ had _ shot a blaster before. 

Once. 

And you had dropped it mid-shot. 

_ Probably not the best thing to tell Mando.  _

The last thing you needed was him preoccupied with your safety. That thought opened up another one for you; you were  _ nervous _ for him. Scared for _his_ safety. You tried to convince yourself that it was just because, if he died, you would essentially be trapped here, but it was deeper than that. You knew bounties could be dangerous, most of them weren’t as harmless as yourself. 

Your concern flashed bright when you felt the ship jolt in landing. 

Mando moved to stand in front of the bay doors as they began to lower. 

He turned back to you slightly. 

“Coms are on the cockpit. Only call if it’s an emergency. I should be back in a day or two.”

You struggled with something to say, unsure of what would be too far. Your concern got the better of you, and you let it slip into your voice when you said, “...be safe, please.”

To your surprise, he nodded at you, then stepped out of the ship, closing the doors behind him. 

…

It turns out you didn’t need to worry about what else to do besides babysitting, the little bean turned into quite a handful when he missed his dad. 

For the first several hours, he wouldn’t stop fussing, refusing all your usual attempts to make him happy. You tried feeding him, rocking him, played hide and seek, _ nothing  _ would stop him, he was a blubbering mess. You were exhausted, and after your most recent attempt, you plopped down in front of him cross-legged, resting your chin on your hands with a sigh. He sat across from you in the hull, whining loudly. The headache that had been brewing since this began crescendoed, and you pressed the heels of your palms into your eyes, rubbing furiously. Absentmindedly, you began to hum. A tune that your mother would sing to you as a child when you became upset. You let the notes reverberate through your head and lungs, relaxing your muscles. you didn’t even notice the child had quieted until you removed your hands from your eyes. 

He was looking at you with wide eyes, still brimming with tears, but his breaths were calming down. You broke out into a smile as you hum the tune louder. Still sniffling, he stood and totaled over to you, raising his hands. You picked him up gingerly, raising yourself at the same time. He curled up in your arms, grabbing the end of your braid as usual and sucking on the end. 

It was working, thank the Maker. Soon, you moved from humming to soft singing instead. The lyrics were a mystery to you. It was in your mother’s native tongue, you didn’t even know the name of the language. You knew these sounds by heart, however. The foreign yet familiar syllabus fell from your mouth as you rocked the child gently. You took comfort in the sound as well, even if it wasn’t your best performance. 

As the last notes rang out through the hull, you looked down at the child. He was sound asleep in your arms. Warmth filled your chest at the sight. 

Maybe you weren’t that bad at this parenting thing after all.

…

It was day two and you were desperately trying to tell yourself that everything was fine. 

He said a day or two. It was day two.  _ He’s fine _ .

Unfortunately, the irrational part of your mind was much stronger in these situations. 

You were pacing in the cockpit, well, more like  _ spinning _ because the space was so small. The child was pressed up near the window, eyes wide and taking in the sights. You figured he was doing the same thing as you; _l_ _ ooking for his father. _ You tried not to let your stress show for the sake of the child, but you weren’t doing a great job. 

You wondered absently what Mando had done with the child before you came along. 

The rapidly setting sun of the planet was casting long shadows around the cockpit. You looked out at the yellow blaze in the sky. It was mere inches from the horizon now, marking the end of day two. 

_ Don’t panic.  _

You finally made yourself sit. Unconsciously, you sat in the captain's chair,  _ his chair _ . 

You ran your hands down the armrests on either side. You felt small in his place. What would you do if he didn’t come back? Would you try to go find him?  _ What about the child? _

A clang from the hull made you jump, stopping your ideas dead in their tracks. You spun the chair, listening for more sounds. Equal parts terror and hope ran through you. You tugged the blaster out of your waistband, holding it down at your side. Moving to grab the child, you held him tight with one arm. 

You strained your ears, hearing a muffled voice,  _ not Mando _ , and then a growled order,  _ definitely Mando _ . 

_ Okay, good.  _

He must be back with the bounty then. You waited for the telltale hiss of the carbonite freezer, shivering at the noise, before moving to open the cockpit. 

You peered out of the door at the foot of the ladder. 

There he was. Tall, safe, and very much  _ alive _ . 

You heaved a sigh of relief, tucked the blaster back in your pants, and turned your back to him to make your way down the ladder. Your hands moved down the rungs shakily as you tried to get a hold of yourself.

You landed heavily and spun to face him again. He stood with one arm still leaned against the freezer. He was silent, as usual, but unusually, you could hear his breathing. It was heavy. 

_ Too heavy. _

You paused a few feet away from him, opening your mouth to ask him what was wrong when his helmet lifted to you. 

The words died in your mouth as he drug his arm away from the metal frame and took a single shaky step toward you before collapsing at your feet.

...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry to leave you on a cliffhanger! Next chapter should be up this weekend at least. Feel free to follow me on tumblr! I'm going to start posting the story/updates there as well!
> 
> https://soggy-platee.tumblr.com/


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Okay so maybe it wasn't posted by this weekend but it's Monday so whatever. This chapter might be really rough on grammar and stuff, didn't have time to edit really. Anyway, hope you like this! Hope it was worth the cliffhanger. All of your comments fill me with the will to write, so dont stop now lol
> 
> "He put this together too, splaying his fingers along your shoulder until the prints matched to his glove. 
> 
> A small sound escaped his helmet, it seemed unhappy. 
> 
> You looked back to his visor and gave a sheepish grin. “Guess I was too rough with you, sorry about that.”

…

The clang of his beskar form hitting the hull was loud, making the child in your arms cower. 

You started at the sound as well. Staring at the spot where he had been, you blinked, brain struggling to catch up. Then, 

_“Mando!”_

You slid forward and crouched next to his hunched body, setting the child down behind you. He was face down, with one forearm and one leg bracing him in a slightly lifted position off the floor. His other hand was wrapped around his middle. Distressingly, blood ran in thick droplets off that glove. 

Your hands fluttered around his shoulders, unsure of what to do or what to touch.

You settled for placing your hands on his shoulders, pushing him back into a sitting position until his back hit the wall and his legs straightened out. Now lying heavily against the hull, he let out a load groan between his tight, fast breaths. You scooted next to him, resting on your knees with your hands still on him. 

You moved your face to be in line with his, panicked eyes boring holes into the dark visor, asking desperately, “What’s wrong? What happened?”

He took a shuddering breath and grunted out, “G-got stabb…”

“He-Hey!” you shouted as his head began to lull to the side. Your grip on his shoulders tightened slightly, shaking them back and forth. He didn’t respond. Without thinking, you moved one of your hands up to his helmet, placing your thumb firmly along the indent of the cheek and splaying your fingers out wide, hoping to push it back up. 

Lightning fast, his hand was around your wrist in a bruising grip, “ _Don’t_ ” he growled. 

Instead of pulling away, you spoke firmly, “I’m not going to take it off, but you _have to stay awake!”_

He released his grip, letting his hand fall back down to his stomach. He nodded slightly and your eyes followed his motion down. On this left side, just beyond the beskar of his chest plate, was a growing patch of blood. Through the tear in the fabric, you could see a nasty wound, gagged and dark. 

You hissed at the sight, then spoke quickly, “I-It’s gonna be okay. One second-”

You jumped to your feet and ran over to where you had seen Mando retrieve the medpac when you had gotten hurt. You rummaged around until you found it, hauling it out and setting it next to Mando. 

He was still breathing harshly, but at least he wasn’t passing out again. 

You made your way back to him, kneeling as close to him as you could get. You removed what you would need for the medpac before he spoke, “d-do you know what you’re d-doin’?”

You swallowed, then looked him in the visor, and with all the confidence you could muster, you nodded. The only thing left was to get to the wound. Which would require…

You looked at his torso, and then up at him, “I’m gonna- I need to cut the fabric around it, t-to get to it. Is that okay?”

He gave you a curt nod and shifted so you could better access the injury. 

You steadied your hands as best you could and, knife in hand, began to cut around away the fabric around the wound. Slowly, you revealed the area. Most of the skin there was cover in blood, but the dry patches, _Maker_. 

Tan, even never having seen the sun, dusted with freckles. You brushed your fingers over it while moving a piece of his tunic. It was soft, warm... _real._

You filed away the look and feeling of his skin away for later, once again focusing on your task. Mando was silent, besides his breathing. The child had worked his way over to his other side, clutching onto his thigh. You tossed the knife away once there was enough room for you to maneuver. 

First things first, clean it. Unfortunately, this was going to be the worst part. You poured a generous amount of the liquid onto a cloth. As you poured, you saw Mando tense out of the corner of your eye. You rung out the rag, letting the liquid fall to the floor of the ship, before looking up at him.

“This...is going to h-hurt.”

You figured he would want honesty, not comforting words. 

“I know.” he grunted. 

Well, here goes nothing. 

You placed your hand on his side, careful to not touch the wound, holding his tunic out of the way. Then, you quickly pressed the rag into the wound. 

His back arched against the wall. A strangled grunt, followed by a gasp fell from the modulator above you. He was impossibly tense, the muscles of his abdomen rock solid under your hands. You winced in sympathy, before _dragging_ the cloth along the cut. 

A hand shot out and gripped your shoulder, _hard_. You didn’t let it stop you, though. You continued cleaning it to the sounds of his pained gasps and soft cries from the child on his right. 

Finally, you pulled the cloth away and set it beside you. He relaxed somewhat, removing his iron grip from your shoulder. You knew it would bruise. 

Now for the dressing. You pulled open a large bacta patch and lined it up with the wound. Pressing it to the cut, you traced your fingers around the edge, brushing over his skin gently. You could have imagined it, but you might have heard his breath hitch as you dragged your fingers lightly. 

Bacta began working instantly, and you could see the effects in his frame. His shoulders relaxed and his hands unclenched. He leaned his helmet back, letting it rest against the wall behind him. 

Finally, you let yourself relax as well, shifting your weight from your knees to the balls of your feet behind you and breathing out deeply. Your adrenaline left you all at once and you began to shake slightly and let your eyes slip shut. 

_Maker,_ that was…

You never wanted to do that again. 

You blinked heavily, and reached out to brush over Mando’s arm. He jolted at the touch, helmet shifting to look at you. 

“...you okay?”

He nodded, “Yes, thank you…you- you did good.”

You huffed a small laugh, “thanks, but please don’t ever make me do that again.”

“Agreed”

The child had made his way to Mando’s lap, and his unbloodied hand wrapped around him. 

…

Later that night, you were struggling to clean blood from the floor. You had stupidly let it dry, making it fall into all the cracks of the ship. It wasn’t really your fault, you had to pester the Mandalorian into sleeping for about an hour after you finished dressing his wound. He kept protesting until you basically shoved him back into his bunk. You sat outside the latch until you finally heard silence. 

That had been nearly an hour ago. The last thing you wanted was Mando having to deal with this mess when he woke up. The image of him going limp in front of you wouldn’t leave your mind. It was unsettling, to see him so vulnerable. But somehow...it also made you feel better about your situation. A conformation that he was human, _real_. The blood under your fingernails was proof of that. But more importantly, it was proof that you could help, _you did help_. And he let you. _He trusted you._

You grumbled at yourself, _how the hell did you somehow make this about you?_ You pushed the implications from your head and focused on the task at hand. They lingered, however, in a small indulgent corner of your mind. 

_Finally_ , the last flecks of blood came up from the floor. You righted yourself, wiping a wrist across your forehead. It was only then that you realized how dirty you were. Dried blood, dirt, and sweat made your tunic cling to your body uncomfortably. Your hair had also seen better days, the long braid had pieces falling out on all sides. 

Well, a shower couldn’t hurt. 

The water felt wonderful. For once, it was _warm_. Usually the water in the fresher shower was cold at best. You let the spray run down your neck and back, relieving the tension there still held from the day’s events. You worked the shampoo through your hair, your scalp sore from the kid tugging on your hair so much. Now, with your body bare and warmth flowing through you, your mind began to drift to the Mandalorian. You had seen, _felt_ , his skin today. Soft, warm, golden. He had touched you for the first time in forever. It hadn't been sensual, _frankly it had hurt_ , but his hand nearly encompassing your shoulder still made you shiver. You ran your hands down from your hair as the shampoo rinsed out. 

You were on the verge of letting them drift lower when you heard a thud outside the fresher. Jumping at the sound, you nearly fell. If it weren't for the events of the day, you would have thought nothing of it. But you were still on edge. If it was Mando, you were gonna kick his ass for being up so soon. If it was something else...well, at least you would be hard to catch when slippery. You hurried to finish in the shower, groping blindly for your bar of soap, eyes still pointed toward the door. You couldn’t feel it, so you huffed and turned over to the small ledge where your products were held. It wasn’t there either. You looked down and spun around, not on the ground either. 

_Well what now?_

Your eyes drifted to Mando’s corner, just a bar of soap and a nondescript hair product. You did save his life today. If he had a problem with you using his soap, he could get over it. You hurriedly grabbed it and began to clean yourself, trying not to focus on the smell of pure _him_. 

You finished and hopped out, wrapping yourself in a towel and wringing out your hair. You tried to calm yourself, you were being irrational. Nothing could get in the ship. You slowly opened the door, just enough to peak one eye out. 

A black, tattered cape faced you. 

_Maker, you were gonna kill him._

You wrenched open the door the rest of the way, oblivious to the fact you were still on a towel, and marched over to him. 

He didn’t react to your presence, hunched over fiddling with something on his removed right pauldron. You got about a foot from his back before saying, 

“Do you want to die?”

He grunted at you, still not facing you. 

Annoyed that he was trying to squander your life saving efforts, you reached out with one hand and grabbed his shoulder, attempting to turn him around. You didn’t have the leverage to force him, so he obliged with a huff, tuning to face you. 

He tensed slightly when facing you, but you didn’t care about your current state. 

“What is so hard about laying down? You need _rest_ , you lost a lot of blood.”

He looked down at you, still tense.

“You cleaned up?”

Why was it always a non-sequitur with him?

Your tone softened slightly, “Yeah. Figured it wouldn’t be the first thing you wanted to see when you woke up.”

He paused, then, “Thanks.”

You were taken aback slightly, expecting... _well_ , not that. 

“It’s just cleaning.”

He sighed, then, “No-for everything. I’m sorry that I-that you had to do that.”

You tweaked a brow and gave a small smile, “It’s the least I can do, you kinda saved my life too.”

Silence, then, “Yeah.”

Maker, he couldn’t hold a conversation. 

You were about to open your mouth to excuse yourself, suddenly aware of your nearly naked state, when his hand came out suddenly to brush over your shoulder. 

You froze at the contact, eyes wide and fixed on his visor. It was turned down toward where his hand rested however. You followed suit, and saw what he was focused on. You were right, his pained grip on your shoulder had left a bruise. A bruise in the exact shape of Mando’s hand. 

He put this together too, splaying his fingers along your shoulder until the prints matched to his glove. 

A small sound escaped his helmet, it seemed unhappy. 

You looked back to his visor and gave a sheepish grin. “Guess I was too rough with you, sorry about that.”

He snapped his visor toward your face at that, and you jerked back an inch, nervous that you said something wrong. 

He started, “You didn’t...I didn’t realize I was grabbing that hard, I’m sorry.” His voice was laced with regret and your heart pinched at the sound. You stared up at him, lips partly slightly and eyes wide. He stared back at you. 

Things were just becoming too much for you when his hand slipped from your shoulder and he turned his back on you once more. You gasped audibly and there was no way he didn’t hear it. You finally forced yourself to turn, entering the small storage room where you had been changing. You closed the door softly, trying not to draw more attention to yourself. Once it was shut, you turned and leaned heavily against it. You let your shaky legs give out and slid down the metal, towel riding up as you went. 

_What was that?_

He touched you, _lingered_ on you. Even though through leather, you still felt his touch on your skin now. It tingled, sending fiery sparks to your core. You needed to calm down, _now_. You let the cold surroundings of the metal on your back and bottom ground you, settling your erratic breaths. 

After a time, you heard footsteps, the opening of his bunk hatch, and then its closure. You peeled yourself off the hard floor then, and made your way over to the sleep mat. This is where you ended up when he didn’t have a chance to offer his bunk to you. Besides, you would never let him sleep in the cockpit in his condition. You smiled at the fact that he probably knew that. 

_…_

The wound was healing nicely. It was the third time you were replacing his dressing in as many days, and it was nearly gone by this point. The bacta was doing its job. You relayed this information to Mando, who stood above you as you leaned in to look at a faint scar now. You were glad that he was feeling better, but the small self-indulgent part of your brain wished it would take longer to heal. That means you would get more time to drag your fingers over his skin. 

The other times, he had barley allowed you a glimpse, holding open an inch or two of the shirt to give you access. This time, right now, you had pestered him into hoisting his shirt up from his hip. Your heart stuttered when he did so, and it took your name snapped out of his modulator to get you to focus. You were now mere inches from his torso, fingers smoothing along the edges of a new bacta patch. You greedily let your other fingers drag outside the confines of the batch, along the warm planes of muscle. 

You finally pulled back, just in time to take in his body one last time. His pants laid low on his hips, allowing you to see the faint V leading down, down, _down_ \- 

He pulled his shirt down at that moment, and you had to bite your lip to hold in a disappointed whine. 

Things were getting worse in that department. Being hopelessly attracted to the Mandalorian, that is. You could hardly even _think_ in his presence anymore, everything about him was so overwhelming. Your heart was surely going to fail if you two stayed cooped up on this ship together any longer. And the worst part, he didn’t seem affected _at all_. 

He gave absolutely no indication he felt anything toward you besides ambivalence while you were over here barley holding in a moan every time you _smelled_ him. 

_It was humiliating._

_…_

You were stilling with the child in the hull later that day, trying to keep him occupied. His father had disappeared into the cockpit hours ago and he was starting to get antsy without his presence. If you were being honest, so were you. You knew he would have to take another job soon, but with what had happened on the last one…

You were nervous, to say the least. 

Your head snapped up when you heard the door to the cockpit slide open. He climbed down the ladder, landing hard on the ground. You swallowed hard. He moved in front of you and stood for a moment, looking at you and the child. 

Then he spoke, “Were stopping soon.”

“Do-do you have a bounty?”

“No, I’m getting information.”

“Information?”

“I need to find other Mandalorians, to help get the kid back to his people.”

That was a new facet of the story to you. You knew the kid had powers, that he was being hunted, but getting him back to his people...who were they exactly? More importantly, Mando was going to give the little thing up? What would he do then?

You figured you shouldn’t pry. 

“Okay...me and the kid stay here then.”

No, actually. You’re coming with me.”

_That was new._

While intrigued, you were also nervous. The consequences of the kind of shit Mando got into were fresh in your mind, and you weren’t eager to bring yourself or the kind into that world. You didn’t want to object, you weren’t really in a position to tell him what he could and could not do with his child, but you still wanted to know more. 

“Why the change in plan?” you said, trying to sound as casual as possible. 

Failing spectacularly, apparently, as he turned to you and said, “I know what you’re thinking. Trust me, it's safer to be with me where we're going.”

You did trust him, more than you would like to admit, actually. And he would need you. He couldn’t do whatever he needed to _and_ watch the kid. You would have to have him. You would have to protect him. You had already done that before, had proven your ability to yourself. You just hoped he would agree. 

....

Well, you certainly believed him that you would be safer with him. You had touched down on the crap planet, not even bothering to ask its name, and unease filled you. The hangar was filled to the brim with grimy, beaten ships and creatures of a similar caliber. 

The kid was in his pram, lid closed, thank the Maker. You would rather fight a Bantha than wonder what these assholes would do if they got their hands on him. The streets were busy. The looks that you were sure usually tracked the Mandalorian in these situations happened to find you as well. Most left you both alone, dissuaded by the clear threat present at your companion’s very existence. Some, the braver of them, held their graze as you passed. One humanoid, crossing the boarder from brave to stupid, decided to throw some choice and rather lewd words in your direction. You started at the sound, desperately trying to keep your face clear of emotion. Even though you hated to admit it, things like that, _men like that_ , scared you. You would take a fight over words like that any day. In a fight, you were equals. With things like that...You knew no one would try anything with Mando at your side, and you didn’t want to look weak in front of him, but… You tried to shake it out of your mind. How were you supposed to be of use if a few words made you _turn tail and run-_

A gentle touch at the small of your back made you snap your head up, turning to face the silver helmet at your side. He wasn’t looking at you, but he had to have seen you struggle to manage your reaction. You righted your head to front and kept walking as he hand stayed in place behind you. You stifled a giddy smile and the contact. Now was _not_ the time. 

Mando finally slowed as you approached a dingy building. It seemed to shake from the very foundations with shouts and thuds coming from inside. 

_Great. This should be fun._

Mando had never taken his hand off your back, the weight being a grounding force for you as you walked, but he did now, pulling it up your back to rest on your shoulder. Leaning down and pulling you closer to him, he rasped in your ear,

“Stay close to me.”

The movement of his hand up your back and the rumble of his words left you breathless, only able to nod at his command. He straightened, taking his hand off you as well. You almost sighed at the loss, but you knew it was for the best. It was time to focus, anyway. 

You entered, and quite the sight greeted you. Two Gamorreans were fighting in the rin centered in the building. A loud, gerring crowd surrounded them, money and booze passing hands quicker than you could track. Mando stood a moment before moving, parting the crowd without even a word. You followed him closely, peeking around him slightly to see who you were heading to. It was clear, once you could see. Dressed in a white suit, contrasted with the dank interior, and surrounded by guards was a one-eyed humanoid. You swallowed as you continued to walk, he looked smug. 

Smugness was dangerous. 

You finally arrived at his place at the front of the stand, and Mando slid in next to him. You followed suit, sitting near the edge of the bench, within arm’s reach of the pram just in case. Mando and the man exchange words, getting right to business. You focus your attention behind you, straining to hear the whispers from the audience. You hear the name “Koresh” and “Mandalorian” in the same sentence. The man, Koresh apparently, spoke slightly louder then, pulling your attention to his face. That same smug smile was still perched there. The fact that it was now directed at you made your stomach flip.

“And who is this now Mando? They told me you work alone…” He trailed off, letting his eyes blatantly rake over you. You tried to hold his eye contact, but it was hard when he was focused about 6 inches lower. 

Mando’s voice was low when he said, “Mechanic. And none of your concern.”

You hoped that you wouldn’t have to prove that statement, as you could hardly name the ship you flew in, let alone repair it. 

You listened as they spoke. You tried to relax, but something felt _off_ about him. You gripped the handle of the small vibroblade strapped to your thigh. You had been hesitant to carry it, but Mando insisted. You were glad he did, now.

Your stomach dropped with Koresh’s next words to Mando, 

“"Well, I'll bet you the information you seek that this Gamorrean's going to die within the next minute and a half.” he said, gesturing to the ring, continuing “And all you have to put up in exchange is your shiny beskar armor."

You tensed, waiting for Mando’s reaction to his words. You tried to ready yourself in case things went bad, glancing at the pram nervously. 

Mando replied coolly, “"I'm prepared to pay you for the information. I'm not leaving my fate up to chance."

You didn’t care if you had to pick up a bounty yourself to make ends meet, you would rather Mando give over all his credits right now than fight. 

But you knew no amount of money would persuade this man. 

You jumped when he pulled his blaster and shot the Gamorrean in the ring. Before you even had time to blink, a blaster was pointed at your face. The crowd dispersed with scared screams and grunted curses. Casting your eyes sideways, Mando was in the same position as you. Koresh had his blaster pointed up into Mando’s unprotected neck. 

You held your breath, heart rate spiking. You didn’t move an inch, trying to not give the man currently holding you a blaster point a reason to shoot. 

Somehow, the conversation carried on calmly, 

“"Beskar's value continues to rise. I've grown quite fond of it. Give it to me now or I will peel it off your corpse."

"Tell me where the Mandalorians are and I'll walk out of here without killing you."

You trusted him, you really did, but was making threats with a blaster pointed at both of you really the best idea?

The silence told you the answer. 

You were preparing to fight your way out, calculating that you could take out one, maybe two of the guards before getting gunned down when you heard the small click of armor from beside you. 

You looked down as a slight light began to pulse from the Mandalorian’s right vambrace. 

_Whistling Birds_

You had questioned him about the series of small roles on his wrist once, and you were well aware of what they did. You got ready to duck. 

A moment of silence, the only sound was the blood rushing in your ears. Then, the blue lights shot through your vision, taking down all the men in the immediate vicinity. The one with his blaster level with your head fell, and you took the opportunity to dart from your spot on the bench. You wrapped one arm around the pram, dragging it out of the fray with you. You stayed as low as possible, but couldn’t stop yourself from looking over your shoulder when you heard a large crash. The remaining Gemorrean had jumped from the ring, Mando side stepping the clumsy attack. In the next second, he was grabbed from behind. 

You didn’t see what happened next, as your progress was halted by a large figure in front of you. A...something stood there. The only thing that mattered was that he was _tall._ You took a split second to debate before you shoved the pram to the side as hard as you could before taking off in the opposite direction, feet desperately seeking traction on the dirty floor. You got about a meter before his hands were on you. 

Before he could turn you, you whipped yourself around and threw a well-placed punch at his gut. He doubled over, groaning. You took the opportunity to release your blade from its holster at your thigh. Just as the tip of the blade came free of the sheath, a grip crushed your wrist. Your eyes snapped up to meet the still hunched form, a snarl on the face of your attacker. You desperately tried to pull your wrist from his grip, but it wouldn't budge. 

You then did something incredibly bold, and stupid. You twisted your torso enough to get your other hand in position under the blade, then dropped it. Your other hand barely missed the sharp blade, plucking the hilt from the air. Before your fingers could totally close around it, you sent it in a deadly arc toward the center of the man. 

The now familiar feeling of warm blood covered your fingers. A gasp and groan met your ear before you ripped your wrist from his hand and pulled back your leg, kicking him square in the chest. 

Blade be damned, you turned and ran back toward the pram. 

The fight behind you had continued, with Mando clearly in the lead. Only one man remained. Mando stalked toward him, a deadly silence falling over the place. The man raised his blade, his eyes wide and breathing heavy. 

You were a few feet from the pram now, still running as fast as your shaky legs would allow. In your haste, you nearly tripped, a small sound escaping your lips. 

Both heads in the room whipped toward you, finally realizing you were still there. You could see the decision cross the man’s eyes before he even began to move toward you and the pram. Skidding to a halt, you pulled the kid behind you, having no choice but face completely forward, chest and neck wide open. Your hand groped blindly at your side before you remembered where your blade was, still stuck in another torso across the room. 

_Well shit._

You braced yourself for impact, for pain, but then a sound came. Almost too soft to render, a soft thump stopped the man’s rapid approach. The next thing you knew, he dropped to his knees, then his face. Landing unmoving on the floor. 

Mando was revealed as he fell, arm still following through from the knife throw. He looked fierce and tall, dangerous. _Glorious_. His armor reflected the low light of the room as he pulled his arm back and straightened. 

He was moving before you knew it, crossing the room to you. A hand moved quickly toward your face as his helmet scanned the room for any more lurking danger. The hand stopped a hair’s width from your cheek, as if he just realized what he was about to do. His helmet had tilted down toy fix on your face, silent. In a brazen act fueled mostly by adrenaline, you reached your hand up and finished his motion, briefly pressing his hand to your face with your own cupped around it. 

You only let it rest there for a split second, before pulling it away and saying “We’re good, we’re fine. Let’s go.”

He seemed to regain control at your words, striding past you to the exit you had seen Koresh run through. You followed as close as you could, but you fell behind as you made sure the pram followed you both. 

By the time you had reached the street, you saw Mando dragging Koresh by the legs, trapped by his grappling line. You reached him as he hoisted the man upside down, supported by a street light. You fell into the shadows behind him, trying to stay silent and out of sight. 

Mando demanded to know the information, where the Mandalorians were. After a promise not to hurt him, Koresh sputtered out, “Tatooine, there’s a Mando on Tatooine.”

 _What?_ You had been there for three months. You would have heard of a Mando. 

Your Mando echoed your line of thinking, but Koresh insisted his intel was right. 

Your eyes were still fixed on the hanging figure when you saw Mando turn to leave. You fell into step with him without question, but you almost hesitated. These streets, the creatures barely concealed in shadows… 

He was going to die if you left him there. 

He called after you both, pleading growing more incessant as you walked away. Your eyes were wide, and you tried to turn around. A hand on the back of your neck stopped you. His grip forced your head back to front. It left as soon as it came, but you got the message. 

You felt your heart rate begin to steady again as you let your mind wander. 

Back to Tatooine. 

_Great._

_..._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Follow me on Tumblr for pure unhinged insanity 
> 
> https://soggy-platee.tumblr.com/


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